Never Be the Same
by rayziedayzie
Summary: Amu thought that he'd left her forever, leaving her life scarred with the memory of his perfection. But when Amu falls prey to a vengeful gang of rogues, only one can protect her. And after five years, he appears out of nowhere and saves her life.
1. Intro Canto III

Never Be the Same

[[Prologue]]

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* * *

_I know you – who are you now?_

_Look into my eyes if you can remember…_

_Do you remember?_

It was so long ago… but the memory was still fresh in her mind.

The great Hinamori Amu, former grade school idol, had fallen once again. Her great stature that she had once achieved had withered away, and nothing remained. Nothing. Just the prim exterior of a ghost.

When _he_ left, her soul went with him.

_I can see_

_I can still find_

_You're the only voice my heart can recognize…_

_But I can hear you now…_

His face was indented on every handsome human being she encountered. His sweet, deep voice echoed through her cranium like a soft, bittersweet lullaby. She would never forget him. Not when his face was on every news channel, every radio station, every man's lips, and every woman's heart. She always knew he would become famous. She was the one who told him so all those years ago. Now look at him. Famous young prodigy violinist – girls swooned at the mention of his name. He alone had single-handedly brought back the era of classical music; and very professionally done, at that. Pretending not to care, putting on the mask of just another ordinary casual, rebellious teenager.

_Typical of him_.

But despite what she liked to think, he was no ordinary teenager. He was a prodigy, a musical god. And she knew it; she knew it just as well as every single living, breathing female who simply couldn't bring his name off of their lips.

_It disgusted her. _

Day after day, strolling through the city, his name popped in and out of every woman's lips like some sort of bitter candy. Just sitting in the café, when she thought she'd cleared him out of her mind for a single, solitary day, some love-struck teenager would ruin it for her. Then, she would retreat back into her shell – a depressed young woman, clearly despising her own life.

It was then that she realized the reason.

She _could not_ live a day without thinking of him.

_I'll never be the same_

_I'm caught inside the memories_

_The promises_

_Of yesterday_

_When I belonged to you._

_I just can't walk away…_

'_Cause after loving you – _

…_I can never be the same. _

Nothing could ever make up for the suffering he'd caused her all these years.

_He'd?_ _**He'd**_ caused?

She wanted _so badly _to believe that it was all his fault… but she found it impossible. She took credit for her pain. She had hurt herself, he had done nothing. He had simply been too perfect to be real.

_And how can I pretend _

_That I never knew you?_

_Like it was all a dream?_

His soft, midnight blue hair that reminded her of the endless nights they'd spent together, gliding from rooftop to rooftop, gazing into each other's eyes…

_Apparently those nights weren't so endless after all. _

His deep, beautiful, catlike blue eyes that serenaded her with their soft lullaby, all the while puzzling her with their deep mystery. They had held such a wondrous spectrum of emotions, she could never tell when he was being serious, joking, compassionate, cold – that was another thing she hated about him.

_He always hid his world from her. _

But did she really hate it? Why did she so frequently find herself longing to see those deep, emotional eyes staring lovingly back into hers?

She cursed herself.

_You don't know what you want._

_I know –_

_I'll never forget _

_The way I always felt with you beside me…_

_And how you loved me then…_

She had tried her absolute hardest to keep any inkling of feelings hidden. Thus, she hindered herself from truly realizing her feelings for him.

_Until it was far too late. _

So many other men had entered her life, simply throwing themselves at her feet, but she didn't notice. The feeling of "love" she had once felt so strongly had completely withered away when he left. Now, she felt completely numb to any hinting of romantic intentions toward her. She refused to love another – for she knew that she would never feel the same way as she had toward him. No man could hypnotize her as he did. No man could put her under a spell with just one touch. Just feeling his presence near to her was enough to make her feel her heart beat pulsing through her chest.

_But you never told him._

_I'll never be the same_

_I'm caught inside the memories_

_The promises_

_Of yesterday_

_When I belonged to you._

_I just can't walk away…_

'_Cause after loving you – _

…_I can never be the same. _

He had given her the opportunity of a lifetime.

He told her he was leaving.

He wanted her to come with him.

She didn't know what to do.

"_But… m-my family, my friends! I can't just… l-leave them behind!"_

He touched her cheek.

"_Who said you were leaving them behind? You can see them whenever you want."_

"_B-but…"_

She was beginning to run out of excuses… and focus.

His eyes were beginning to draw her in again.

_Pressure… pressure…_

_**You can't do this, Amu...!**_

"…_I can't."_

His expression at that very moment was the most unreadable that she'd ever seen it.

_Anger? Relief? Fear? Shock? Regret?_

But she didn't get the opportunity to find out.

With not another glance, he released her from his arms, and stood at her window.

A strong breeze blew his hair and the curtains. But neither of them felt it - numbness overcame them like a toxin.

"_I love you, Amu."_

She crumpled to the floor and wept, watching him disappear from sight.

_You left me here – _

_Then I watched you disappear._

_You left this emptiness inside _

_And I can't turn back time._

_NO!_

_STAY!_

_Nothing compares to you._

_Nothing compares to you. _

…_I can't let you go._

Then, her life was forever scarred with the memory of him.

Because after loving him…

She knew that she'd never… _ever_ be the same again.

* * *

_(A/N) - don't be turned off this story by the horridness of this songfic – i__ promise it's a fairly tolerable story._

_this is, well... it's the prelude to the actual storyline of this fanfic. i have only one thing to say: n__ever fear – i like happy endings. no unfinished angst in this here story. _

_so basically, i just spoiled the ending for you in a way. the two canon characters DO NOT DIE._

_so if you like that kinda thing, my b :3 but the story isn't totally void of angst. so fair warning - get out your tissue boxes. i got mine :D_

_anyway... enjoy :3_


	2. Fight Inside

Never Be the Same

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Chapter 1

* * *

Grey skies blanketed Seiyo City as far as the eye could see. A light drizzle began to speckle the concrete, much to the chagrin of the businessmen and women lining the sidewalks. Several groups of people sought refuge underneath sidewalk vendors' booths, impatiently awaiting the subsiding of the steadily increasing downpour. Others simply trudged wearily on, either running or walking briskly through the potentially torrential storm –

One of which was 21-year-old Hinamori Amu.

Today, not unlike any other day, was simply _**not**__ her day_.

The bitter cold stung her cheeks as she jogged rapidly down the sidewalk, struggling to maintain her dry hair with her bag. She knew it had been a bad day to walk home. Oh, how she wished the bus would speed up beside her and whisk her away to a warm and dry paradise. Even a taxi would do – unfortunately, she had been stupid enough to leave her wallet at home. Along with her city bus pass. Basically, any means of getting home safe and dry had just barely escaped from her grasp.

Yet another one of those things she loved about her day so far.

And she was oh-so-confident that it would get _so_ much worse.

Her job at Kyoko Magazine Company was slipping beyond her control. Her boss, Ran Watanabe, demanded a full-fledged bio on some unknown circus performer on the west side of town. In other words, she'd be up 'til the not-so-wee hours of the morning, researching circus performers and listening over and over again to her partner's recorded interview with the man.

She couldn't catch a break.

And now, she stepped directly into a strangely immense puddle of water, soaking through her shoe, directly to her stockings. She groaned.

"Piece of crap…" She growled.

Strangely enough, this made her irately angry. With a huff, she snatched both navy blue stilettos from her feet, and made a mad dash down the sidewalk. She no longer felt the burden of the clunky shoes weighing down her speed, and thus, she moved swiftly through the few sparse people dotting the sidewalks.

Amu felt a vibration in her purse, and cursed her damn cell-phone for ringing at that very moment in time. She stopped, took a moment to shuffle through her purse and catch her breath, and answered it.

"Hello?" She breathed, agitated.

"You forgot to place the files on my desk when you where finished placing them in an alphabetized order!" Came an explosion of irritating, high-pitched voice on the other line.

Amu rolled her eyes, and looked in her purse – sure enough, the folder of files in alphabetical order was propped up inside.

"My apologies, Miss Watanabe," she said, trying to sound as sweet as possible so as to not irritate her boss more, "it appears that I have the folder with me."

Ran Watanabe wasn't just a boss – she was THE boss. She enjoyed disorder, chaos, mayhem, and utter anarchy; something that pissed Amu off even _more_ than her high-school cheerleader attitude.

"Well, way to go, Amu!" Ran snapped sarcastically. "The superior is going to have my head for this."

_So why didn't you alphabetize them yourself?_

"Be sure to bring them in tomorrow morning, _early_. If I can sneak them into his office before he arrives, he'll never know about your, um, flub."

_Oh, right. You're probably too ditzy to remember the series of letters that you learned in first grade._

"Yes, Miss Watanabe. Thank you." Amu crossed the street, receiving strange stares from people who actually had shoes on.

"No problemo, Amu – that's what loving, adorable bosses are for."

_Remind me how you got to the position you're in?_

"Goodbye, Miss Watanabe."

Amu's boss hung up the phone, and Amu did the same. She shoved it into her purse, muttering not-so-friendly words under her breath about her idiotically ditzy boss. She shoved her phone into her purse.

Finally, Amu made a sharp turn on Eclipse Lane, and sprinted the home stretch to her apartment building.

She burst through the door, panting, dripping wet and angry. She wasted no time in wearily stomping up the small staircase, and slowly approached the top, breathing heavily. That mad dash home had taken its toll on her. Sometimes, she wished she hadn't been so kind to her friend and neighbor, Souma Kuukai, when he'd kindly requested the room on the lower floor.

But what was she supposed to do? He'd practically arranged this apartment set up for her (even though she was pretty sure it was no coincidence that he was the only other one in the small complex), and he had been one of her closest friends since grade school. Usually, the minor disadvantage of a staircase didn't bother her, but occasionally, her legs made strong objections to its intimidating climb.

She fumbled in her bag for the key, and slipped her folder of papers beneath her arm as she thrust the key into the doorknob. Finally, after much unnecessary coaxing and enticing, the lock gave way, and Amu thrust the door open.

Immediately, in one fluid motion, she slipped off her soaking wet coat, threw shoes, bags, and papers to the wind, and fell back into the depths of her devouringly comfortable couch. _Home at last. _She closed her eyes for fleeting moments, and took a deep, soothing breath. She heard the jingling of a collar, and opened her eyes. But before she could look down, a strong, wet tongue caressed her cheek. She groaned.

"Tucker." She wiped her cheek. "_Gross_."

The large golden retriever cowered back in defeat. She ruffled his ears lazily as a token of forgiveness. His tail wagged promptly.

Amu cracked an eye open, and took her phone out of her purse, within arm's reach. _Stupid Amu. Never leave your phone in your purse, in the janitor's closet, EVER again. _She felt overworked and tired doing so much work in her office without the consolation of listening repetitively to her phone's few disco-like ring tones. She had to wait for the janitor, Mr. Mills, to open the door with his special key in order to get her purse (which she didn't remember how it ended up there in the first place).

She lazily picked up her phone, and opened it – 3 texts, 1 missed call. Despite the intention of her mind to simply chuck the phone out a nearby window, she opened the first text. It was from Rima.

**Rima**: **i** **need to talk to u. call me when ur free.**

She sighed. It was probably another one of her jealousy complexes. Amu's elementary friend Rima was now a script-writer of a very famous comedian, and was an expert clown herself. To someone who didn't know her, it seemed like a very unfitting career to someone of her character. But to Amu, it was not a surprise. Rima had always been very quiet, very reserved – and yet so outspoken it scared her. She spoke her mind when she felt the need to, and usually, it had Amu rolling on the floor laughing.

Rima had always been a comedian at heart; she simply did not like to show it to strangers. And usually, people other than Amu and Yaya were considered strangers. But she was capable of loosening up; Amu had experienced it first-hand several times. Sure, it may have seemed strange for someone of Amu's character to even be affiliated with someone like Rima, but they found that they balanced each other out well. Nothing could come between their unique friendship, and that's what made them such good friends for all these years.

Amu scrolled down the text list. The next one was from Tadase.

**Tadase**: **question – do you have a date for the reunion? **

Amu rolled her eyes, but a smile quickly found its way to her lips. Hotori Tadase – every woman's dream in a man. The man that every girl in their right mind glared at Amu _just_ for hanging out with. But Amu knew better than to play jealousy games. Ever since elementary, Tadase had vied for her attentions, and hers alone. He'd said so himself, very eloquently.

In elementary, she'd thought he was destined to be her husband. She thought he was absolutely dreamy – with his shiny blonde hair, his flawless, soft skin, and his rusty ruby eyes – she'd thought he was the epitome of perfection. And his manners – ah! How he'd enchanted her. But as time passed by, her tastes changed, and her brilliantly shining fascination for him had died down to a dull glow. He was still as romantic and polite as ever – one of her best friends – but good friends was where their relationship came to a halt, and there it would forever remain. They'd kept in touch all throughout college, and Tadase had not ceased in his endeavors to win Amu's affection. But despite his attempts, another man had captured her atten -…

Amu paused, rubbed her temple, and moved on to the next text.

**Utau**: **stupid** **company wont stop bugging me… hows about u an me hook us up a hott date wit some ramen?**

She finally let out a small chuckle. Hoshina Utau wasn't exactly the ideal friend to hang out with in public – especially in a crappy old ramen joint. Too many paparazzi. But that was what she always preferred. Her philosophy for hang-out joints was, "Crappier place, less paparazzi." And it was true. Usually, it was just the fans who swarmed her with paper and pens. Occasionally, Amu would get a fan or two, just asking for the autograph of a "friend of Utau's". Somehow, this gave her no consolation.

Hoshina Utau had been an exceedingly popular singer back in her teen years, until she quit her previous music company, and created her own along with her manager, Sanjou Kairi. She had said they were too controlling, and she finally wanted to sing her own style. She was still fairly popular, but her fame had dulled down dramatically when she quit Easter. So had her pride. Ever since she'd quit Easter, she'd been more open with Amu. She'd stopped hating her because of her brother's -…

Amu rubbed her temples more severely now. _Great. A headache._

She reluctantly sat up, and slithered off of the couch. Somehow, she had miraculously stumbled onto her feet. She took her cell phone into the kitchen, and listened to the message in her inbox while she warmed up some water for tea. She cringed when the message started.

"_AMU!"_

She thought her phone had exploded. She quickly caught it before it flew through the air.

Oh, her headache was so _not_ going to be healed anytime soon.

"_I'm expecting that folder tomorrow morning, sharp! You'd better not be late, either, or the editor-in-chief man will have my head – and remind that darn Miki to bring me a full report on that Italian model we're photo-shooting! Of course, Su still needs to get that circus envelope to –_"

She pressed the "end" button, and slammed her phone on the counter.

She took a deep breath, and removed the mug of hot water from the microwave. Miss Watanabe's venting was _not_ her ideal headache remedy.

Clearly, Amu needed a phone conversation _and_ a message in her inbox in order to _really_ remember to "be on time tomorrow."

She plopped the tea bag into the water, and as the flavor began to disperse throughout the water, she made her way back into her room to change into dryer apparel – an immense, ridiculously comfortable thrift-store sweater, some cottony-comfy men's sweat pants, and large doggy slippers. She picked up her tea and a bag of cookies in one fell swoop, and curled up on the couch lazily. She picked up the remote, and turned on the TV to be greeted by her favorite soap opera. Tucker bounded through the living room, and claimed the spot on the couch right next to her. Amu scratched his head playfully. She threw her bright fuchsia hair up in an unsightly and completely sloppy ponytail, and stuffed a cookie in her mouth.

She savored the taste of Oreos. _Oh_ _yeah_.

Tonight… was ugly night. And nothing could stop her from getting fat and brain damaged on cookies and tea.

"Oi, Amu. I need some eggs," came a voice from her front door.

Nothing… except a surprise visit from Kuukai. _Oh, happy day. _

Amu rolled her eyes, and groaned.

"You're just the bomb at ruining relaxation moments, aren't you?"

Kuukai smirked triumphantly.

"And I don't even try."

Amu let one more round of eye-rolling slip by, and lazily slithered to her feet, strongly resembling a limp puppet. When she turned around, Kuukai awaited her faithfully, munching on one of her freshly bought apples. His eyebrows shot up when he glanced at her tired state.

"Whoa. That's, uh…" he snickered. "That's some relaxation you g-got going on there."

"Shut up," she snapped.

She completed her order with the death glare, and he promptly obeyed. He knew better than to mess with her in her after-work mode. She was highly irritable at that very moment, and his obnoxiously loud crunching on _her_ apple was not making things _any_ better.

"Bad day at work?" Kuukai questioned after a prolonged silence,.

She sighed, and her snappy mood toned down just enough to have a suitable friendly conversation with her longtime friend and neighbor.

"Sorta. First off, Miss Watanabe spilled coffee on her skirt, so I had to go steal one from one of the photo shoot dressing rooms, then Miki forgot her paperwork for the article about Cecelia Marques – y'know, that actress in America? – and then Su… the freakin' scatterbrain… completely mixed up the order of the photos of Utada Hikaru for next month's issue."

She finished with a dramatic flailing of the arms. Kuukai let out a low whistle – his trademark demonstration of surprise.

"Whoa." He now marveled at her disheveled appearance. "In that case, you look great."

She moaned once more, and finally dug out three eggs for Kuukai's use. He said thanks, ruffled Tucker's fur, and left her to her "ugly fat time." As she shut the door on his way out, she smiled softly to herself. Kuukai would drive her insane one day; she was sure of it. Amu had always known he would become a famous soccer player. He had a try-out in a couple of weeks for the USA National Soccer Team. He had been training like crazy for the past couple of months – which, she was told, was what it took – and there was no doubt in his mind that he would make first string. He had always been optimistic, that's for sure. It certainly was nice having him around to cheer her on when she needed it most.

Amu took a deep, soothing breath. It seemed to have been occurring unconsciously lately. Her headache was only beginning to steadily increase, and she hadn't even begun her box of cookies. Impulsively, she grabbed a bag of chips out of the pantry, and opened it with a loud _pop_. Usually, potato chips weren't her thing – but everyone needed change once in a while, right?

She curled up on the couch once more, and took one look at the TV with disgust before changing the channel immediately. They were showing Jennifer and Carter again – her two least favorite characters of the soap. Jennifer was supposed to have been with Leon, but _nooo_, they just had to toss her aside like a lump of lead to someone less worthy. Now Leon was stuck with that crappy Deanna. She shuddered.

She really needed to lay off the soaps.

She changed the channel to the news. She saw something about a stray kitten, and got semi-interested, but then the topic rapidly changed. She placed her finger over the channel button, but suddenly froze.

She felt an instantaneous pain in her stomach when she saw a picture flash on the screen.

" – and last night, a reported alleged assault was directed towards the famous violinist of the century. Apparently, he had just finished giving a concert, and attempted to save a girl's life from her violent attacker."

Her face grew pale.

"The man is going to court today, along with the assaulted woman, but our favorite blue-haired violinist has stated that he will not press charges. Wow, what chivalry, folks. You know, I went to one of his concer –"

_Click_.

Amu clasped her hands together, cold and clammy. Her headache had suddenly become severe and nauseating. Her stomach clenched tightly.

_Hm. "Saved her life." Not unless there was something in it for him. _

She turned to face her dog, Tucker, and smoothed his soft, golden fur very slowly, to return the blood flow to her pale hands.

_All he wants is attention. All he wants is a few more million dollars to continue living the rich and spoiled life. _

_All he wants is the paparazzi. _

She closed her eyes, and laid her head down on the side of the couch. Her heartbeat felt as if it were pulsating through her ears. _Damn headache_.

And for hours and hours of that gloomy day, she curled up on the couch and tried her hardest to clear the image of his face from her mind. She knew it wasn't impossible. She'd done it all these years, and she'd keep right on doing it until the day she died.

But sometimes, she wanted to slap herself until her memory was erased.

Her life was perfect once. For a few years, she had everything she could ever want, need, and dream of – she was living a life of ecstasy. Not a care in the world; flying with the clouds. Her heart soared.

_But all dreams come to an end_, she thought bitterly.

Now, her life was a living hell. She had lost everything she'd ever known, loved, and cared about – all she had left were few friends who could hardly bring a smile to her face. She now lived a life of pain; not a day went by when she did not feel on the verge of tears. She was now swimming with the rats in the sewer. Her heart had its soar – then it crashed and burned.

All because she didn't know what she had until it was gone.

Now, the aching, burning regret ate away at the depths of her heart, and day by day, its toxins were sinking deeper and deeper into her skin.

It was impossible to escape. Not when she was reminded of him every day of her life, every hour of her miserable day.

_No._ She would never stop loving him. _Never_.

She would never stop loving **Tsukiyomi Ikuto**.

* * *

_(A/N) - yay first chapter! :D_

_holla at me if you're as excited as i am :3_


	3. Break Me Down

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 2

* * *

"Amu!" Miki Hayashi greeted her just as she walked in the door. "Perfect timi –"

"No." Amu snapped abruptly, and walked briskly past her.

Miki took a moment to recover from her momentary shock, and quickly stalked after her.

"You didn't even let me say good morning!"

Amu rolled her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that any greeting that starts with an enthusiastic 'perfect timing' is _no_ 'good morning'."

Amu veered a sharp left down the retro black-and-silver hallway, without another word to her clearly distraught associate and friend. Miki threw her arms up in dramatic disgust, and gave up pursuit.

Miki had always been a sort of over-dramatic woman – and yet, she was the laziest thing Amu had ever seen. She rarely did her work on her own, and when she did, it was never on time. Miki had applied for a job at Kyoko magazine on the same day as Amu, thus they shared a special bond among all other associates. They shared many other interests – soap operas, sleeping, classic 50's black-and-whites, and pigging out on Tollhouse cookies. They had shared many a night together, containing all of the above, and then some. Altogether, she was tolerable. But on days like this, Amu wanted nothing more than to walk in, make absolutely no eye-contact, waste time, and then go home to her cookies.

_Oh, Amu. Get a life. _

She flashed her passing associates a curt nod in the form of a greeting. Her heels clip-clopped rapidly down the hall, and she looked very modern and professional in her white silk blouse, stylish black skirt and her Lisa Jayne designer-original pea coat. Her wispy, electric fuchsia hair was tied up in a loose, stylish bun. She truly resembled the ultimate modern businesswoman.

She just hoped she wouldn't have to deal with the _struggles_ of the "ultimate modern businesswoman."

Amu stopped at the coffee table, where multiple coffee machines lined the modern, shiny black table top. She dumped her purse and folder on the countertop, and began to pour the dark, caffeinated liquid into a Styrofoam cup.

And ever-faithfully, Su Yoshida popped up beside her, completely catching her off-guard, as usual – and beaming much too brightly for the early morning, as usual…

"Good morning, Miss Hinamori! It's a lovely morning, isn't it?"

_Only_ _she_ could qualify dark, damp, and dreary in the "lovely" category.

"I rearranged those photos of Utada Hikaru again – in the correct order, this time," she said with an embarrassed blush.

Amu sighed deeply, and unconsciously rubbed her temples. _Don't remind me._ Su seemed to notice her distraught mannerisms, and her pretty little brow furrowed anxiously.

"Oh, Miss Hinamori, you have _no idea_ how sorry I am, it's just that… Miss Watanabe had said not to arrange them at all, so I got confused, and then Miss Hayashi gave me a specific order as to –"

"It's fine, Su." Amu gathered her belongings once more, and walked briskly down the hallway.

Her pace quickened noticeably. However, her intentions of losing Su had failed – she scurried behind her like a rat to cheese.

No… like a flea to a dog.

Amu wrinkled her nose. _Dufus. Either metaphor makes you sound just as nasty. _

Amu suddenly whirled around, obliviously interrupting Su's unnoticeable rant.

"Look, how about _you _pick out the photos for the mag spread?" It sounded more like a statement than a request. "Surprise me."

Su looked shocked for fleeting moments, and hints of her smile popped on and off.

"R…r-really? Y-you want ME to… are you –?"

"Knock yourself out."

And with that, Amu whirled around, and continued clip-clopping down the hall in her black and white stilettos. She could still imagine the distorted look of happiness on Su's face when she'd been given such a generous privilege.

Su was a sweet girl, really she was, but she was just so… so _sweet_. Her bright smile in the early morning was blinding. Also, she tended to lean more on the ditzy scatterbrain side, and rarely showed any signs of intelligence or tactfulness. Amu practically had to tell her what to eat for lunch. But she definitely held an unmistakable zeal and fervor for the world of fashion. At the young age of 19, she was working at a _very_ popular magazine company. She was respectful toward authority, and Amu had no doubt in her mind that she would make a wonderful fashion icon someday.

Her walk through the hall finally led her to the familiar door with the label "Hinamori Amu", and she entered quickly. She slammed the door shut, and inhaled deeply. Her day had just begun, and already, she just knew _something_ was going to go horribly wrong – simply because nothing had… yet.

-0-0-0-0-

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice cooed _after_ opening her office door.

"Oral knocking sounds do not qualify as a polite entry," she cooed in the same sarcastic manner.

Amu looked up to see the familiar casual smile of her good friend and partner, Fujisaki Nagihiko. She couldn't help but let slide a little smirk of her own. Nagihiko walked up to her desk, his long, navy blue hair swishing back and forth. He had always resembled a man of elegance and grace – it probably had something to do with his history.

Nagihiko's childhood was spent disguised as a girl, to please his ancestors by taking up the family tradition in Japanese dancing. When he had finally become a free man, he decided not to cut his long tresses – apparently, "the ladies found it attractive." He had always been a very close friend to Amu, as a girl and as a boy, and they too had stayed in contact throughout college. He now looked down at Amu with a small smirk.

"I have come to deliver that article you wanted on Vera Wang. How is your journey progressing?"

He leaned on her desk after placing the file folder in a large stack of papers. Amu groaned, and leaned back in her chair, throwing her arms into the air in a dramatic stretch.

"Oh, not so bad; I think I've got the gist of my story on Rachel Chateau. You wouldn't believe who her father dated."

She paused, and gave him a skeptical glance.

"Why?"

Nagihiko said not a word – he simply bounded into the air, and waltzed his way to Amu's desk chair. He took her hand, and leisurely led her out of the office.

"It is time for a much-needed lunch break, and you know I do not like to dine alone." He flashed her a handsome smile.

She rolled her eyes, and smiled as he led her to the coat rack just by the door. Before exiting, Nagihiko called to the desk clerk,

"To lunch!"

And yanked her out the door.

-0-0-0-0-

"So how about that circus article you were working on?"

Nagihiko gently stirred his coffee, and the light-colored cream swirled around with the dark liquid.

"How about it? It's stupid," Amu said bluntly. "Totally pointless. No one even likes clowns."

Nagihiko let out a hearty laugh – and she could tell that he was attracting the attention of a certain waitress who had been staring at them for the past 10 minutes. She rolled her eyes. He'd always been an unconsciously flirtatious ladies man.

Amu looked down wearily at her sizeable salad, and continued shuffling a cherry tomato throughout the sea of Ranch-coated lettuce. She was starving, and yet she didn't have the strength to bring the fork to her mouth.

Suddenly, she heard the sad, low resonance of a violin flood the café.

But it wasn't any ordinary violin.

She looked up, eyes blank with thoughtlessness.

"Ah, I love this one." Nagihiko closed his eyes and smiled warmly. "So tender and elegant. That Tsukiyomi certainly has a way with a violin, doesn't he?"

Amu connected to her subconscious, and nodded half-heartedly. She looked up to a small TV screen in the corner of the café.

On the screen, a tall, lean, blue-haired man gently caressed his bow over the strings of a dark, chestnut violin.

His jaw was tense, and his handsome face was solemn and focused. His sparkling midnight-blue eyes were set distantly on nothing in particular – it seemed that all his body and soul had been sucked into the playing of the violin.

Amu looked away as quickly as possible. She kept her gaze on her coffee.

Thoughts swirled around in her mind like a tornado, scraping her skull with pain and horrid memories; somewhat resembling the cup of coffee that she had been absently and furiously stirring for several moments. She sensed a headache beginning to pulse through her ears.

_Stupid racket. _

It seemed like an eternity before the music finally ended. The majority of the café clapped softly, casting each other distant smiles in response to the soft minuet. The announcer's booming voice cut sharply through Amu's trail of thought.

"Well, there you have it, people – Tsukiyomi Ikuto, in the flesh! Now, rumor has it that his one-man tour is stopping at our very own city of Seiyo tomorrow evening!"

Gasps flooded the café. Excited murmurs and anxious whispers.

"He has claimed to friends that he will be visiting his old high school, as well as giving a concert at the Orchestra Hall on Falls Boulevard! Imagine, having such talent come from our humble city!"

The small building was electric with excitement –

Amu, however, couldn't have felt less cheerful.

_This can __**not**__ be happening… _

"Well, isn't that exci –" Nagihiko turned to Amu. "Amu? What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"

Amu had become deathly pale. Her hands were cold and clammy, and yet, she unconsciously broke out in a light sweat. Her stomach churned. Her head and her heart throbbed with an unmistakable ache.

The same exact thing that always happened when his name was spoken – except intensified.

Ikuto was coming _here_.

"…mu? Amu, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

She suddenly snapped awake.

"What? Y-yeah, fine." She quickly brushed a few bright strands of flyaway hair out of her face.

Her eyes were still wide and distant and her hands were still trembling. Nagihiko laid a hand on hers gently, and she looked at him with a small flash of fearful anger deep in her honey-golden eyes.

"Is it about… Ikuto?"

She slipped her hand out from his quickly.

"Y'know, I don't feel very good, I…" she laughed nervously, "I, uh… I think I'm gonna head back to work, take a couple of aspirin; shake it off."

She gathered up her purse, and handed him a ten-dollar bill for the meal – he refused it, and put it back in her hand. She forced a belated, half-hearted smile.

"See you at the office," she said lowly.

And with that, she whirled around, and walked briskly out of the café, followed by trails of eyes… including Nagihiko's.

Amu's last words held a tone of concealed uncertainty that only a man like Nagihiko could notice. He stirred his coffee a few more times, and took a dainty sip, only to put the coffee down seconds later in deep thought.

He knew of Amu's past relationship with the cat-like violinist. His only question was; did it scar her as vividly as it did him?

"Can I get you anything more?" A soft, cheerful tone sang above him.

Nagihiko looked up, and was not at all surprised to see the petite, brown-haired waitress awaiting his orders patiently. He smiled handsomely.

"No, thank you very much."

The teenage girl looked wistfully at the door, with a small smile. Her eyes shone with admiration as they followed Amu's quick footsteps down the sidewalk.

"She's beautiful," she half-whispered. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Nagihiko thought for a moment, and unfortunately, didn't think about his next statement.

"Yes, I suppose you could call it that."

The waitress looked at him with a cheery smile.

"Every happiness to you both. You're a very lucky man." She winked, and picked up Amu's untouched plate.

Nagihiko smiled at the waitress once more before she skipped back into the kitchen. He sat in blank thoughtfulness for a moment, before taking one last swig of coffee, and gathering up his belongings. He stood up abruptly, and his attention was drawn to the TV once more.

Nagihiko saw the familiar face of Tsukiyomi Ikuto, and the cheerfulness that was once cast upon his face had all but vanished. He would never forget the expression that came upon Amu's face whenever that man's name was mentioned.

He had hurt her. And despite Amu's perseverance, she could not hide the fact that he still held a place in her heart. A place that Nagihiko deserved; not some swaggering, cat-like renegade.

And he would claim it. One day, all of her memories of that cruel man would be erased from her mind forever. He would make sure of it.

-0-0-0-0-

Amu walked so briskly she could have broken into a jog.

Her chest felt heavy, and inside her throat was an unmistakable sore feeling – the one that she got whenever she was about to…

Amu opened her eyes wide, letting the cold autumn air hit them full-blast, drying them out. She was not about to appear so weak.

So what? So Ikuto's coming to Seiyo in a day. A matter of hours. A matter of long, horribly deadly hours.

_No, stop it, Amu. You've managed to avoid him for this long; now comes the true test._

She hadn't realized until now that her jaw was clenched so tightly that her teeth ached; her hands were clenched so firmly that she'd dug into her skin with her nails; her eyes were so lividly furious that people around her staggered away in fear.

Amu walked to her office quickly, avoiding anyone and everyone that dared confront her. Just as she saw her office door, she heard a soft, high-pitched voice behind her say,

"Miss Hinamori? Umm, I was wondering whether or not to use the photo with the smudge in the corner, considering we could use Photosh –"

"Go ask Miki," Amu interrupted lowly.

She opened the door to her office, and felt her blood boil when Su spoke again. Suddenly, she couldn't contain it anymore.

"But she told me to ask –"

"**Leave me alone**, Su." Amu snapped loudly.

Amu slammed her office door in the face of her assistant, but not before receiving several shocked stares from bystanders in the halls. At that moment, she wished there was a lock on the door.

Amu stormed across her office, and slammed her purse on her desk, nearly demolishing the few picture frames she had propped on the edge. She massaged her temples with her fingers.

_Calm down, Amu girl. Just take it easy. It's not like you're going to see him – he's just coming to give a concert and leave._

But her attempt to cool her thoughts did not prevail. She felt anger and hatred like she'd never before, and could not keep the blue-eyed violinist's roguish grin off her mind.

_I hate him. I hate him. I hate him._

"I **hate** him!" She screamed, slamming a hand on her desk and shoving a whirlwind of papers across her office.

She stood, and sat down heavily into her desk chair, breathing heavily and angrily.

Seconds passed. Then, she buried her face in her hands and broke down.

…_I __**hate**__ him… for doing this to me._

* * *

_(A/N) - poor kid. had an emotional crisis. a meltdown, if you will. _

_hey, it happens._

_well, come on to the next chapter! we have cookies..._

_actually, no. i'm not a big cookie fan anyway._

_we have... crabs. the next chapter haz crabz :3_


	4. Breathe Into Me

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 3

* * *

**So about this concert. i got free tickets from my roommate. u wanna slip out 4 a while? **

**-Yaya**

**p.s. – it might do u good 2 see him again. think about it.**

Amu stared at the screen of her cell phone for an unnecessarily extended period of time. Finally, she closed the phone, and slid it across her work desk. She sighed deeply, and gently pulled the hair-tie out of her hair. She let her long fuchsia tresses slide down from their captivity, leaned back in her office chair, and rubbed her scalp soothingly with her fingers. It felt good, but her headache still overpowered her attempt at relaxation.

That was the third time she'd been offered to attend the stupid concert going on that night. They'd been hounding her about it since yesterday, when it was revealed that the "famous young violinist" was coming. She almost wanted to scream in the face of the next person that asked her. Why couldn't they get it through their thick skulls –?

She did _**not** want to go._

She had tried expressing her distaste with a simple curl of the lip, or even a word or two about how much she hated the violin. "It gave her headaches," she said. And it was true. The violin was the most annoying, useless instrument in the world.

She took a deep breath, and a deep hatred came rising up in her heart.

_No. It's not the violin. It's the violinist who is detested. _

She sighed once more, and tried her best to calm herself with deep, soothing breaths. And in any case, she had no desire to go to a violin concert that night. It was finally Friday, and she planned to simply sleep her cares away. A violin concert did not qualify in the "relaxation" category.

She leaned forward, and laid her head in her hands.

_But that's not the real reason you're saying no… _

_Is it, Amu? _

"Miss Hinamori?" Su rapped lightly on her door as she walked in.

The green-haired assistant poked her head in the door, staring fearfully at her boss.

Amu sighed – she recalled the moment, yesterday afternoon, when by accident she released her irate anger upon the poor girl when she'd only asked a simple question.

"Come in, Su." Amu had no intention of apologizing – only correcting her mistake.

In an instant, the fearful expression was replaced with a cheery smile. Amu squeezed the bridge of her nose; it gave her a headache just to look at the great big voluptuous ball of cheeriness.

"I've got the photos chosen for the spread. It took me hours to figure out which ones to choose, but I think I've finally made up my mind."

Amu lifted up her head begrudgingly, and one glance at Su cut sharply through her innocent gaze. She cowered back in fear.

"I-I'll come back another time."

"No, Su, it's fine. Let me see what you have."

She stumbled warily to Amu's desk, and laid the folder of papers gently in the center of her desk. Amu closed her laptop, and picked up the folder, skimming through it briskly. Su fiddled with her skirt anxiously, and shifted her feet several times in the course of her waiting period.

Finally, Amu stood up, and stuffed both the papers and the laptop into her huge designer-original purse. She looked up at Su, as if surprised to still see her there.

"They're good."

At those words, Su about fainted. Amu gathered her belongings into her bag, slightly dazed from her headache.

"Tell Miss Watanabe I'll have the article ready by Monday morning."

Su was beaming with surprise.

"Y-yes ma'am! Of course, a-anything you say! Thank you!"

Just as she was about to turn around and leave, Su caught herself. She looked at Amu with a quizzical brow, with just a hint of concern.

"Miss Hinamori?" She said softly.

"What?"

"If you don't mind me asking… i-is there something wrong?"

Amu packed her things at a more rapid pace.

"No, of course not. Thank you anyway."

Su turned around fully, feeling a little bolder than before.

"You've seemed a little, um… _distant_… lately. Is there something bothering you? Because if it's just me, you can fire me whenever you –"

"Su."

Amu had finished packing, and had arrived at Su's side, laying a gentle, yet firm hand on her shoulder. She let out a half-hearted smile, like jell-o plastered across her face.

"I'm just feeling tired lately. Y'know, life…" She paused, and rethought her next words. "Life… doesn't always go the way you want it. Okay?"

"O-okay."

"Remember that." Amu opened her office door, and shut off the light switch. "Have a good weekend."

"Goodbye…" Su answered with a distinct melancholy in her voice.

Amu walked briskly down the hall once more, on her way home. The day was finally over. Ordinarily, a huge feeling of relief overcame her, and she grew excited just thinking of the alone time she would spend at her apartment – how relaxing.

However, for some strange reason, the last thing Amu wanted to do was spend that night alone.

Her thoughts drifted back to her own words.

_Yeah, Amu. Life doesn't always go the way you want it. Remember that when you feel like you're about to break. _

_Tonight…you __**will **__**break**__._

-0-0-0-0-

"So you've got a lot of work. That's no death sentence, right?"

Mashiro Rima placed a coffee mug in front of her distraught friend, and sat down at the small coffee table across from her. Amu's simple, pathetic-looking glance had transformed into a sleep-deprived, fiendish glare, enunciated by the slight, dark circles beneath her honey-golden eyes.

"Define death sentence," Amu muttered, bringing the coffee cup to her lips – decaffeinated, for safety purposes.

"Amu, this is nothing compared to what we went through back in school. You can handle it, you know you can. Besides, it's the weekend."

"I know, I know… but… I feel like I can't think straight anymore." Amu's voice was low and quiet.

Rima suddenly froze, and set her own coffee cup down on the table. She looked deeply into Amu's weary eyes. Her solemn gaze seemed to read her tired, distant expression word for word.

"It's that stupid cat boy, isn't it?"

Amu shuddered at the title. She looked up slightly, but made no other movements.

"That fool of a man… that ruined your life…?" Rima's temper began to rise.

Amu's eyes lazily found their way to Rima's. They seemed to hold no emotion – only a bizarre mixture of pain, sorrowful remembrance, fear, and exhaustion. They no longer held the life and energy and sparkle that they once had.

"I haven't slept in days, Rima," she whispered dryly.

"And why is that, Amu?" Rima's tone was sharp.

"He's coming to Seiyo this weekend."

"Amu. I thought you'd forgotten about him."

"I thought so too."

"Amu!" Rima yelled.

That got Amu's attention. It was a rare occasion nowadays to see mature Rima lose her temper so quickly, and Amu knew it. She remained silent, and looked down into her coffee mug. Rima's glare softened slightly, but her tone still held the icy edge and precision that was necessary to drill into Amu's clouded brain.

"I want you to forget about that man. He has done nothing but hurt you. He cannot provide you happiness."

Rima stood up, gathering her mug and small saucer, and walked into her small kitchen. She sighed.

_And happiness is what you need, Amu. _

"How about you stay at my place tonight, huh? Lay off the workload for a while," Rima suggested, softening her tone dramatically.

By now, Amu had completed the task of "gathering her wits," and successfully put on the contented façade that everyone knew so well.

"Thanks, but I'd better get home to Tucker. Kuukai probably forgot to feed him again."

She took one more sip of coffee, and stood from the small coffee table. She gave Rima a half-hearted smile, and whispered,

"Thanks, Rima."

"Anything for Amu." Rima finally set free her childish smile.

"Hey… didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me about?" Amu remembered.

Rima's eyes widened, and she suddenly became noticeably sharp. It was her way of expressing timidity.

"It's nothing. Go home and get some rest."

"Okay. See ya."

Amu slipped out the door of Rima's apartment, and took a deep, painful sigh. Her eyes became clouded with every emotion imaginable as she took slow strides down the hallway.

There was no way she could forget. She'd tried, and tried, and tried over again… but he haunted her. His memory was fresh in her mind like it happened yesterday; stalking her, hounding her. Then, just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, it would grow unbearably worse.

_Hm. Looks like five years isn't enough to kill a memory. _

But this was no ordinary memory.

_Tsukiyomi Ikuto… what have you done to me? _

-0-0-0-0-

_Drip, drop. Drip, drop._

Amu lay wide awake in her bed, listening to slow raindrops fall gently out of the dark, cold autumn sky. She turned her head.

10:03.

She had no reason to stay awake, so she had gone to bed, hoping to sleep her cares away.

But sleep would not come.

Now, she was stuck in the suspension of an endless nightmare – eyes wide open and bloodshot, body rigid and restless, hands cold and clammy. She hadn't even had the courage to change into her PJ's; she knew she would be up and pacing again. She never would've predicted her life to turn out this miserable. Never before had she felt so… lifeless.

Several times, Tucker had faithfully come to her bedside, and laid his nose on her hand affectionately. His eyes seemed to hold genuine concern – for a dog. Amu wondered if he could understand what she was feeling as of this moment. _She_ didn't even understand what she was feeling as of this moment. There was too many emotions swirling around in her head, she felt like the pressure would cause her head and her heart to explode.

The concert was probably over by now.

Not that she cared.

A cold bead of perspiration trickled down her ear, and stained the pillow beneath her head. Why was she shaking so much… if she didn't care?

She couldn't take it anymore. She launched herself off of her bed, and stood to her feet abruptly. Then, she just waited.

_What are you… doing?_

_You're getting aspirin. That's what you're doing. Focus, Amu. _

She exited her bedroom door, and hesitantly flicked on the kitchen light switch. Her eyes took time to adjust to the bright yellowish light, but she managed to pull out the aspirin and a mug from the cabinet. She reached for the tea container on the counter, and pulled off the stubborn lid.

She wanted to cry.

_There was… __**no**__…__** tea**__. _

She felt like a flaming arrow had pierced the very fabric of her soul.

That's it. _That's IT_. She felt a swell of emotion suddenly rise up in her, and without thinking further, she let out a frustrated growl.

"Piece of CRAP!"

She slammed the tea container on the counter, and stomped over to the door. Though the loss would seem so insignificant to any ordinary human, to Amu… it was a nightmare. Her common sense had been hanging by a thread, and now, that one insignificant happenstance had broken her thread, plunging her into deep, dark, _irate_ anger. She couldn't take another minute in this dark, desolate prison.

She needed freedom.

She grabbed her tan pea coat from its crumpled position on the arm of the couch, and seized the transparent umbrella from the coat rack. She slipped on some comfortable clogs, and threw the door open dramatically.

The foyer was dark. Kuukai must've gone out.

And with a good, final scruffling of Tucker's ears, Amu set out into the wild, wet city.

-0-0-0-0-

"I can't wait to hear Tsukiyomi Ikuto play!"

"I have all of his CD's!"

The air was electric with excitement. The last few stragglers were beginning to fill the empty seats, and the bodyguards from the hallways had begun to close the large doors leading to the auditorium.

Suddenly, the dark stage was illuminated in a single sphere, where the tall, dark violinist stood poised and ready to play.

The audience went wild with applause and whistles and screams.

Then, after the silence had come, the violinist struck the first string.

With the first note he played, the entire audience went ecstatic with whispers and an occasional wild squeal of excitement.

His closed his eyes, so as to avoid eye contact with any of the girls, to prevent potential fainting.

Then, later, after all was played and all cheering was accomplished, he would duck out of the paparazzi's grasp and slip out the side door. Then, he'd find an obscure hiding place outside of town. Then, he would fall asleep, and slip into his room the next morning just in time for a useless rant by his manager.

Just… ordinary.

He'd memorized the repetitive pattern of his life. _Pathetic_.

He'd worked up a fine dew of perspiration from unleashing his inner frustration upon the violin. The crowd seemed in awe of his passion. _Tsk. Passion. _What passion? He'd lost passion a long time ago.

Just then, he didn't know what came over him, but his eyes flashed open.

For the first time, he boldly scanned over his crowd with a dull, solemn gaze.

_That's different. _

He was at a loss to find a single jaw closed.

How pathetic.

However, his gaze froze at a small group near the front of the auditorium. He saw a blonde and a copper-haired man, who seemed to stand out. The copper-haired one was grinning foolishly when he met his gaze. The blonde, however, met his solemnity head-on.

He could never forget such a childish, helpless-looking face.

What was Hotori Tadase doing here?

He remembered him from his childhood – the Kiddy King. He hadn't seen him in years. He'd despised Ikuto with a passion back then. Why was he here?

He also saw a brown-haired girl with them – ah, the babyish one – and the crabby blonde one. Also, the girlish-looking blue-haired boy. He remembered them all. They were those Guardian kids in that elementary school with…

Suddenly, he felt a painful ache in his heart.

The crowd shuddered as the bow screeched violently against the strings.

He quickly recovered, and continued playing. The crowd whispered to each other, wide-eyed.

"What was that?"

"I've never heard him make a mistake before…"

"Shh, he's still playing!"

It happened. His concentration had shattered.

Tsukiyomi Ikuto had made a mistake.

All because of a stupid memory.

_Idiot – she's not here. Quit getting your hopes up. _

-0-0-0-0-

"Have a nice night, ma'am."

"Thanks; you too."

The more Amu thought about it, the more she realized how incredibly and stupidly hasty she had been in walking through the suburbs of the city so late at night. Why exactly had she _needed_ tea at that very moment in time? How desperate for a life can you get?

She cringed when she felt a wet sensation on the heel of her sock. She rolled her eyes.

Great. Another puddle.

She seemed to have this mutual attraction toward them.

The bottoms of her worn jeans were getting wet and ragged, and her hand clutching the umbrella was frozen solid. Her nose and cheeks were red and puffy. She could've sworn she was getting a cold.

_Amu… what the hell were you thinking?_

Her self-hatred worsened with every step she took down the cold, dark streets in South Seiyo. This was the shortest route home – however, it had seemed much more tolerable an hour ago when she was stomping with irate anger toward the drugstore. Now that her anger had died down, and the stupidity of it all was finally beginning to dawn on her, it had also dawned on her just how creepy these streets could get.

The streetlights were unusually dim, and various pieces of debris blew around in the autumn wind, causing disturbing noises that made Amu jump. The sidewalks were cracked and worn, and a thin layer of mist blanketed the concrete.

It was so cliché, it was freaky.

Amu clutched her umbrella a little tighter, and took a deep, soothing breath. But no matter how many times she did so, she couldn't escape the eerie feeling that tingled inside her. However, she commanded her mentality not to run, no matter how scary it seemed.

Her footsteps just… quickened a little.

_What's wrong with you, Amu? A twenty minute walk can't kill anybody. Pull yourself together._

"Hey, dollface."

Amu jumped instantaneously after hearing the low, raspy voice echo through the dark streets. She just barely made out the silhouette of a scraggly young man staggering out of the alleyway just in front of her. She felt a sudden rush of panic through her head, but quickly calmed herself.

_Just turn around. You can get home another way._

She wheeled around without a word.

Then she froze again.

"Aw, goin' somewhere?" Another voice. "We just wanted to play."

Before she could comprehend the situation further, two tall, dark men were closing in on her, fast. The way they swaggered and swayed, Amu believed they were both drunk.

After realizing this, she stopped thinking. Her mind was clouded with panic.

_Amu, wake up! You have to move!_

"Now, just come with us, and it'll all be over, right?" The raspy one said.

"Right." She could hear the twisted smile across the other one's face.

_Quickly, Amu! Run! Fight – __**do **__**something**__!_

Amu lost all control of her nervous system. Her body no longer responded to the commands in her mind. Terror was quickly seizing her body.

But she didn't let them know that.

Quickly, she pulled her umbrella shut, and with all the strength she could muster, she swung it wildly through the air.

_**Crack**!_

_Bull's-eye._

"OW! What the –"

The man fell to his knees, and clutched his head in writhing pain. Amu seized the opportunity and shoved her foot directly into the man's groin. He grunted violently, and keeled over in agonizing pain. Amu then whirled around, and held up the remainder of her broken umbrella in a threatening position.

Suddenly, her knees became very weak.

The man was pointing a gun straight at her head.

"That's right. Freeze." His voice no longer sounded smug. "Come with us, lady, or you'll strongly regret it."

"Why don't we just kill 'er now?" The man on the ground said tightly. "Save us some trouble."

Amu felt no breath in her lungs. As hard as she may have tried, she couldn't breathe.

She couldn't think, she couldn't speak. She couldn't believe this was happening.

_This is not real._

_You are __**not**__ about to be shot. _

_Oh God..._

Suddenly, the man before her burst forward involuntarily, and the gun sprang from his hand. He sprawled out on the concrete, and Amu finally sprang alive just in time to sidestep warily out of harm's way.

Before Amu could realize what was happening, there was a third shadow in her midst.

Her mind was demanding her to run away, but her feet did not respond. They stayed glued to their trembling position, and Amu watched on with fear as the two thugs were being assaulted by the third man.

Though it was too dark to make out any distinct features, her rescuer was tall and very lean. He also was very capable of fighting the two men at one time. She saw the man moving quickly and skillfully between the two thugs, letting out clever kicks and subtle punches. The men's fighting drifted to the alley. The small amount of light that could've been provided by the moon was concealed with the dark rainclouds – Amu wondered how the hell he could see in such darkness.

Suddenly, she heard a deafening gunshot echo through the blackness.

She jumped, and let out a muted scream.

A second gunshot followed.

Amu felt like her head would explode. For a split second, she could've sworn her ears were bleeding. She'd never heard a gunshot before. The sound was surely amplified by the pitch blackness surrounding her. But then the thought struck her.

Where did the bullets go?

A surge of panic immediately rushed through her veins.

_No_.

_No, it couldn't be. _

Suddenly, two men scrambled out of the alley, panting heavily. Judging by their physique, Amu determined that they were the two thugs.

"Stupid kid…" the raspy voice spat. "We'll be back. Just _try_ to ruin us then."

"B-but the boss said –"

"Outta here!" He snapped.

The pair staggered and stumbled down the street, and their quickened footsteps resounded through the cold, dark streets.

Amu's head throbbed more intensely than she'd ever known. She had no idea what had happened – it happened way too fast. She shivered visibly in the cold, autumn night rain, and she took slow steps toward the alleyway. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she slowly delved deeper into the dark area.

Then, her wild heartbeat stopped when she saw a limp figure on the ground.

_Motionless_.

She wanted to scream, but she felt no breath in her lungs, much less a voice.

She fell to her weak knees beside the man. It was so dark; she could barely see his form. She wanted to scream in frustration at the damn idiot who decided not to change the streetlights.

She squinted her eyes once more, and tried her hardest to find a body part that she recognized. Then, she saw it – a bright flash of pale skin, illuminated in the darkness. She reached out her quivering hand, and touched it gently.

_Ice cold. _

_Dead…?_

She hesitantly moved her hand further across his face, and her spirits sank with every cold, lifeless touch. Suddenly, a burst of movement was unleashed from his limp body. Amu jumped, and recoiled her quivering hand to cover her mouth.

_He's… he's alive…!_

She could just barely make out the twinkle of sharp, piercing eyes glaring back at her through the blackness.

Suddenly, she had found her voice once more.

"A-are you all right?" Her voice quivered and wavered with her own fear and uncertainty.

There was a minimal silence. Once again, Amu jumped in apprehensive surprise when a low, clear voice cut through the darkness of the alley.

"Yeah."

Amu felt a hint of relief, though his answer did not calm her nerves completely. She was still fairly shaken about the whole incident, but this man could not have sounded more calm.

Finally, Amu was beginning to comprehend the fast-paced situation fully. Something huge had just rocked her little secluded world. Just minutes earlier, she had been mourning her own boring life – and within seconds, she had been on the verge of getting kidnapped, or worse, shot.

Suddenly, it hit her – like a… bullet.

"You… you're hurt."

"It does appear that way, doesn't it?" The man fired back bluntly.

The voice sounded awfully calm for someone as injured as he was. Out of the corner of her eye, the man's silhouette shifted its position, and panic rushed back to her.

"You can't move – you're injured! I'll call the p –"

"**Don't**."

His voice sounded tight and pained. Amu was at a loss for words, and actions. But when the man was struggling to stand, her instinct told her to move to his side and support him. She slipped her arm just beneath his shoulders, and was slightly surprised to find his back very firm and muscular. Her other arm found his hand, and she draped it over her shoulder for his dependence. It was then that she realized that she was breathing again…

Because the most familiar smell rushed through her head with the first deep breath.

This mysterious, dark man that rescued her had the most familiar… most wonderful smell.

He smelled like…

Amu shook her head.

_Idiot. Get those twisted thoughts out of your mind. _

"Thank you," Amu whispered suddenly.

She blurted it out unconsciously, so as to avoid further wandering of her strange, very confused mind. Her arms and legs were beginning to feel the pressure of this man's weight. He was surprisingly heavy, and seemed at least a head taller than her, if not more. Nevertheless, she kept walking slowly, supporting her rescuer in every step. He remained silent, and seemed rigid and tense. She felt increasingly horrible with every muscular strain she felt in his arm.

Had she really just witnessed a man being shot?

Had her life really just been threatened?

It was all too hard to believe, so she gave up.

_Stop it, Amu. Your pretty little head is the least of your worries. This man is hurt – he could die if you don't do something. _

_He saved your life; it's time to return the favor. _

Finally, she and the man had managed to drag each other into the dimly lit streets, and she readjusted the position of his arm on her shoulder so that she could face him.

_This light should be enough. Who is this man?_

"Now, please tell me where he shot y –"

She stopped.

Her eyes locked with his.

She felt an overwhelming wave of nausea.

…_No. _

Her throat was dry and hoarse. The lack of breath in her lungs limited her speech, so she uttered the only word on her lips…

"…**Ikuto**."

* * *

_(A/N) - ruh-roh :3_

_now you just KNOW you're lookin' forward to the next chapter. _

_soOoOoOo... please, take a step to your right and move on the the next chapter._

_but before you do, might i interest you in a limited-time offer? below you is a pretty, shiny green (if i'm not mistaken) button that is entitled "Review". if you would be so kind as to press that adorable button, this author would be very pleased. thank you and goodnight. :D_


	5. Start Again

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 4

* * *

"…_Ikuto_."

His familiar face was once again being etched into the back of her mind.

Pale, luminous, soft skin that shone in the darkness.

Deep, dark, beautiful eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

Soft, silky, midnight blue hair that fluttered in the cold night rain.

Amu couldn't believe her eyes.

And judging by the shocked expression in his sharp eyes, neither could he.

They were both silent. For what seemed like an eternity, they simply gazed into each other's eyes – longingly, hatefully, lovingly, angrily, calmly, nervously. Amu couldn't help but wonder what emotion he held in his deep, dark eyes.

She felt franticly sick. Her knees were wobbling, and her brain was struggling to wrap around the present situation.

Ikuto. Ikuto Tsukiyomi; her best friend. Her worst enemy. Her first love. Her last nightmare.

_Five years. _

_After five years, your head still spins when he's near._

She foolishly attempted to speak.

"W-what are you… how…?"

Before she could utter another sound, she felt warm, muscular arms envelop her in a desperate embrace. Ikuto's hands clutched the back of her coat in desperation, and buried his head in her neck.

Amu felt a deep wave of emotion swell up from the forgotten depths of her heart. She felt his hot, quick, heavy breaths against her neck. Damp strands of his soft, catlike hair tickled the back of her neck. She felt a cool liquid drizzle down her neck, and felt nauseated when she inhaled the scent of blood. The wounds on his flesh were staining her coat with the red liquid, and she could barely contain her queasiness, but…

Never before had she felt so...

Scared_? _Wonderful_?_

No_. __Alive._

Ikuto buried his face deeper into her hair, and inhaled deeply the sweet, familiar scent – strawberries.

Then, his breath was lost.

He slumped like a limp puppet in Amu's arms.

Suddenly, Amu felt a heavy pressure on her weak knees, and was forced to fold them as Ikuto came crashing down on her.

"Ikuto…?"

Before she could further comprehend the events in the darkness, Amu was kneeling on the cold, wet cement, entangled with an unconscious Ikuto. She let out a sharp cry at the distorted position of her leg, and tried her best to shift her uncomfortable position.

"Ikuto, w-wake up…!"

Shifting her position relaxed her body to some extent, but her mind was still as frantic and jumbled as if every shocking moment in her life had just been combined. Nothing had been more shocking than… this. Ikuto laid his head heavily against her thighs. For a split second, she thought he wasn't breathing; she was relieved to finally hear him intake a sharp breath. His breathing steadied from then on.

It was only then that Amu herself finally remembered to breathe.

She was still in shock of the whole ordeal, but the final moment of stillness gave her time to think.

_He's… unconscious. And… bleeding. _

_What now?_

Suddenly, she felt the overwhelming rush of a déjà vu.

* * *

'_He's asleep… on my lap. But my knees hurt, and his hair tickles. But… he does look… different now. If he was always like this, he'd be a bit cuter.'_

_She moved her hand across his hair._

_Suddenly, his eyes flashed open._

"_Don't touch me in erotic places."_

"_W-what? Erotic?"_

_A slick grin crossed his face._

"_My ears are my weakness. Just like you…"_

* * *

Amu looked at Ikuto's face wistfully. Somehow, she had grown numb to the cold, midnight rain – although red and swollen, her hands had nearly stopped shivering. Before she could comprehend her actions, her hand had found its way to his soft, moonlit cheek. She brushed a wet lock of hair from his face, and stared at his dark silhouette. She almost felt that she should brace herself, half-expecting his eyes to flash open and his familiar smirk to wind its way in her heart.

Amu remembered it well.

_That was the day I saw him as more than just a cat thief. _

Her hand had woven itself into his fine, delicate, soft hair, and she stroked it gently.

_That was the day… _

_I found true love. _

-0-0-0-0-

Amu stood rigid against her kitchen counter, hugging her cold, damp shoulders tightly.

"He should be awake soon," Kuukai said slowly, walking into the kitchen. "You can fix him up then."

Kuukai stared at her from across the kitchen. He couldn't help but notice as he stared at her intently how pale and tired she looked. Her wide, sparkling, honey-golden eyes no longer held the same shimmer. Her skin that was once tainted with summer's crisp, warm rays was now deathly pale. She had dark circles beneath her distant, fearful eyes, and strands of her damp fuchsia hair clung to her face and neck.

It had been a long time since he had seen her look so lifeless.

_Not since _he_ left. _

Kuukai couldn't bear the silence, and he knew that Amu wasn't benefitting from it, either. He chose his words carefully.

"How long has it been?" He whispered tenderly.

Amu didn't even flinch. Her wide, spacey golden eyes were trained in one direction, and her voice did not falter.

"…Five years," she whispered back, dryly.

The weight of it all came crashing down on her after she spoke the words, threatening to crumple her to the ground.

But she felt too numb to move.

Kuukai couldn't quite make out her feelings – her tone and expression were both blank and emotionless – but he knew…

She was feeling more pain than he could ever imagine.

"Do you want me to call the police?" He asked carefully.

Amu was still for a moment; then shook her head.

"He said he didn't want to."

Amu couldn't help but notice that Kuukai hadn't looked or spoken this solemnly in a long time. He continuously ran his hand through his spiky auburn hair, and looked exceedingly flustered every time his gaze wandered over to the couch where the unconscious, bleeding victim lay. Amu knew that she shouldn't have disturbed him for something so personal, but she needed help.

Ikuto's physical strength, as well as his willpower, had all but failed him, and Amu's small, slender frame, albeit muscular, was not meant to carry something – or someone – of such stature and surprising weight. She had managed to drag him from the alley to her apartment building, but when she burst through the door, at first glimpse of the long staircase leading to her front door, she had no choice but to scream desperately for Kuukai. Her nerves were shot, and her composure and discernment had washed away with the rain.

Thus, she and Kuukai worked together in carrying the wounded man up the stairs, into Amu's apartment, and onto her couch.

She didn't know where else he could go. He said he wanted no police, and if she'd taken him to the hospital, they surely would have taken him in for questioning as to his gunshot wounds.

The whole situation in itself scared her out of her mind…

But of every human being on the damned face of the planet, Ikuto had to have been the one to get shot.

He was here, in her apartment, on her couch. After five years, he coincidentally showed up in the darkest corner of the city at the same time as her, just in time to save her life.

_Coincidentally._

And now, she was left with the responsibility of tending to his gruesome, bloody wounds, whose scent made her gag and convulse.

_How much could her mind handle?_

It was as if her brain was testing itself to its fullest limit. She could swear that in moments, it was apt to explode.

Kuukai seemed to notice her tenseness. Finally, he let out a small, wary smirk, and strode across the kitchen to Amu. She jumped slightly when he laid his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him with clear distress in her weary eyes.

"How about you go change into some dry clothes? I'll keep track of him 'til you come back." He nodded to the couch. "Sound good?"

Amu nodded, feeling a little more relieved. Kuukai's smile never failed to give her a certain kind of peace. She made her way to her bedroom slowly, knees wobbling. She groped for support throughout the small, tedious journey, and stopped only for a moment to shoot a feverish glance at Ikuto, sleeping on the couch. Then, she disappeared through the doorway, into her bedroom.

Kuukai's smile vanished as he walked over to the couch. He glanced at Ikuto with a stern gleam in his eye.

"She hasn't forgotten you," he said softly, lowering himself to lean over the sleeping victim. "And I _know_ you haven't forgotten her."

Kuukai waited.

Ikuto spoke lowly, "I've never tried."

He then shifted his position on the couch as far as his mobility could take him, and clearly and deliberately turned away from Kuukai. Kuukai sighed, and a slightly melancholy smile spread upon his face. As he stood up, he whispered barely audibly,

"Keep it that way, huh?"

And with that, he walked silently out the door, without a sound. Just minutes after, Amu emerged from her bedroom, wearing a pair of tattered jeans and a loose green sweater. It was clearly evident that her choice of clothing wasn't even near the top of her mental list.

Her eyes darted around the room, but failed to find Kuukai. She inwardly cursed herself. _Quit looking around for help. Do it yourself. You got yourself into this mess, and you'll have to get the hell out._

She had planned to casually treat his wounds the moment he awakened, but the reoccurring thought of excess blood being lost changed her mind reluctantly. She walked over to the couch, and stared down at the sleeping man. It was then that she finally obtained a good view of his face – unguarded, defenseless, and completely harmless. She felt tempted to smile. She hadn't forgotten how adorable he looked when he was sleeping; now, five years later, he looked all the more endearing.

Then she snapped out of it.

She wanted to smack herself again.

_Dammit, Ikuto – why? Why?_

After five years of suffering, why had he returned? She was doing so well. She could've made it through her life. Moved on. Gotten a nice, independent single-woman reputation. She'd even considered dating again.

But he just had to come _back_. Now, all these emotions swirled around in her head in a big mixing bowl. This was all happening so suddenly – for the first time in five years, she had let her guard down, just in time for the painful memories to be thrown back in her face. She didn't want to see him again.

She was _sure_ she didn't want to see him again.

_Positive. _

..._Right?_

She slowly strode to the kitchen, and leaned against the counter with a cup of hot tea to warm the palms of her quivering hands. Should he happen to wake, Amu did _not_ want to be seen fawning over him like another one of his obsessed fan girls.

Her gaze wandered over to the couch once more, and she tried one last time to comprehend the whole situation altogether.

She felt outrageously helpless.

She felt frantic, she felt stupid, she felt nauseated.

But then again… she hadn't felt such peace in a long time.

Amu spent the next several minutes simply sipping at her tea, ignoring the excruciating pain of the steamy liquid against her tongue. She purposely kept her mind void of any thought, so as to relax the continuous headache that was gradually worsening. For several minutes her eyes wandered everywhere but to the couch, where the sleeping victim lay, awaiting medical attention.

Finally, she took a deep, soothing breath, inhaling the warm, relaxing steam from her tea. She looked over at the couch.

_It's time._

She grabbed the towels and the bowl of water from the kitchen counter, and walked quickly over to the couch. She sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, and immediately began dipping the towel in the lukewarm water, so as to maintain her current level of boldness and courage.

She had the damp cloth in hand, and she reached forward to his chest – but was stopped.

By her own common sense.

_What in the world was she doing?_

She was no doctor. She wasn't a nurse. She had no medical training.

The farthest medical treatment she'd given was a band-aid on a clumsy little kid's knee.

Ikuto had been shot. _Twice_.

_Was she really doing the right thing? _

The longer she stared deeply at Ikuto's bloody chest, the more convinced she became that what she was doing was completely and utterly useless.

But it was the least she could do.

As gently as possible, Amu pressed the damp towel to the hideous open wound near Ikuto's right shoulder. She was afraid of touching it too firmly, so she simply dabbed at the bloody gash with the tip of the cloth. A sudden spurt of the red liquid sprung from the hole in his chest. Her throat clenched, and she convulsed abruptly – she threw her hand to her mouth, and drew in a sharp breath.

_Take it easy, Amu. Just a little blood. _

She took a deep, soothing breath, and pressed onto the wound once more. She retracted the cloth, dipped it in the water, and pressed it gently again. She repeated the process smoothly for several minutes, each time further staining the water with red. She couldn't imagine how painful it must be.

Suddenly, Ikuto's eyes flashed open.

Amu jumped. She caught her breath.

Their eyes met, permanently locked and alert. Her golden; his blue.

She couldn't believe it. For the first time in five years, she saw Ikuto Tsukiyomi's face under light. _Oh, God. _

_He looked exactly the same._

She looked away. One more moment beneath the intensity in his eyes, and she would've been drawn in again.

_Just as he'd always done. _

"You're awake," she stated lowly, her throat threatening to clench shut.

She could tell that he was still staring at her. She dipped the cloth in the water again, and brought it to his wound once more. She purposely kept her gaze away from his.

"Sorry if it s-stings," she cursed her stuttering, and cleared her throat. "It needs to be cleaned."

Amu pressed gently, this time wiping the cloth smoothly across the gash. Ikuto said nothing, nor did he flinch. He simply gazed in wonder at Amu's familiar, matured, taut face.

He was in shock. But he didn't let her know that.

Amu arose from her position on the coffee table, carrying the bowl of water with her. Without looking down, she muttered,

"I'm going to get some clean water."

Ikuto's catlike eyes trailed her as she strode slowly into the kitchen of her small, open apartment. Amu emptied the bowl of red water, and paused a moment. She set the bowl in the sink, and clung to the sides of the counter. She breathed deeply, and stared into the sink, tainted with red.

Red blood. _His_ blood.

_Just breathe, Amu girl. _

She turned on the water, rinsed out the sink, and filled up the bowl with lukewarm water. She walked out again to the couch, and again sat gently on the coffee table.

By this time, Ikuto had attempted to sit up slightly. He had now accomplished taking his eyes off of Amu, and was staring off into space blankly with those cobalt eyes of his. Amu picked up the clean white bandages from the coffee table beside her, and gently ripped off a piece of cottony cloth. She then pressed the bandage across the wound on his right shoulder. Amu looked into his eyes briefly. He did not flinch. Feeling a little more confident, she carefully taped the bandage over the clean wound. She then proceeded to clean the second gunshot wound, on his right arm.

Amu felt a small sense of accomplishment as she cleaned and bandaged Ikuto's gunshot wounds. She knew it may not have been the most health-conscientious decision, but nevertheless, she felt like she was doing something to assist the man who saved her life.

Though at the same time, she knew that nothing would be enough to repay him.

The silence was becoming ominous. Amu knew she didn't have anything to say, nor did she have the right to say it, after how cowardly she'd acted… but shouldn't Ikuto have said something by now? Such as, per chance… why he was walking around in the suspicious parts of the city at night?

_Wait_.

_Amu, why were __**you**__ walking in the suspicious parts of the city at night?_

She couldn't even remember anymore.

All she knew was that they were both in the same place at the same time, and Ikuto had risked his life to save hers.

She looked at Ikuto.

_After all these years… he hasn't changed. _

"That was very reckless of you," she said quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear her.

"I could say the same for you," he said lithely.

Amu was slightly startled by his immediate reply. His clear, low voice echoed through her mind. It was the first time she'd heard his voice in five years. He chose never to speak on television, except in personal interviews – and even if he had, Amu would never have heard it, because she avoided him at all cost. His voice was deeper, and gentler; like a ribbon of dark silk.

She hated herself for it…

But she wanted to hear it again.

Suddenly, she thought back to the words he'd said with that wonderful voice of his.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

She looked at him warily, but he simply turned away with a dull gleam in his eye.

"Running around in the wild, wet city at midnight with two tall, dark strangers… sounds pretty risqué to me." Ikuto sat up more. She could _hear_ the smirk in his tone.

His voice was like a sharp, yet smooth and shining sword that pierced her pride with every word.

"Excuse me? It just so happens that there was a third tall, dark, not-so-strange stranger skulking around at midnight! How do you explain that?"

Amu's anger capacity was increasing steadily with every passing second. Ikuto's expression and position didn't change, but his voice carried to a higher inflection.

"I saved your li –"

He suddenly grunted in pain when Amu pressed hard on the cloth to his arm.

"And I'm saving yours," she snapped.

There was a long period of silence, in which Amu cleaned and dressed the wounds on Ikuto's bruised, tainted, yet still fair chest. It was a tight, somewhat tense silence, but it was altogether tolerable, and gave them both time to reflect and think. Neither showed any signs of a smile, nor friendliness or humor of any sort – but both quietly and subtly noticed a change in one another.

For the next several minutes, there was no communication – no eye contact, no noise. Amu let out an occasional sigh of frustration when the bandage in her hand wouldn't cooperate, but Ikuto didn't make a sound. Due to this fact, Amu felt increasingly uncomfortable.

_Why doesn't he say something?_ He must have at least a question or two to ask her about what had just happened… how could he possibly act so casual?

_Wait a minute, Amu. This is Ikuto you're referring to, here._

Her expression softened a bit.

_He really hasn't changed. _

"…How did you know?"

Amu froze, and realized that it was her own voice that uttered the forbidden words. She couldn't possibly act like she hadn't meant to, so she simply repeated it.

"How did you know… where I was?"

The question seemed unbelievably bold at that very moment in time, and she couldn't believe she'd actually said it, but she had. She threw the burning question out of her mind before it could damage her thoughts any longer. Ikuto, however, didn't look so shocked. In fact, his expression was exactly the same as it had been since he'd opened his eyes – dull, tiresome, and, ironically, very expressionless. However, he parted his lips, raising Amu's hopes to a dramatically high level –

"Instinct."

– and then sending them plummeting once again.

Amu simply rolled her eyes, and let out a frustrated grunt, before adding the finishing touch to the final bandage. She set the cloth in the red-tainted water, and looked at Ikuto's chest once more. She gazed at him with a touch of sympathy in her honey-golden eyes.

"How does it feel?"

Ikuto said nothing – he simply sat up a little, and twisted his torso around slowly. He raised his arm, to the strong objection of the wound on his shoulder, but managed to lower it without even a grimace. Amu wasn't surprised. No matter how long it had been since she'd last seen him, he had never been one to show pain. He kept his feelings hidden – and as long as he was watching, so would she.

She just didn't know exactly what feelings she was hiding… yet.

"Would you like me to put something on your bruises?" She asked, without eye contact, but a tone full of concern.

He shook his head.

Amu stood up from her cramped, uncomfortable position on the edge of the coffee table, and carried the bowl of bloody water with her to the kitchen. She dumped it out in the sink, and ran water until the stains were removed from the sink.

The brief thought of policemen invading her apartment and trying her for murder because of evidence of bloodstains in her sink did _not_ sit well with her.

Amu took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with cold water. She brought it over to the couch, where Ikuto was flexing his muscles and stretching his arms slowly. He looked more awake now. His eyes held just a slight bit more awareness than they had before. She handed the glass of water to him, and after much unnecessary deliberation, he took it from her.

"Are you hungry?"

He looked at her briefly, before shaking his head and muttering,

"Thanks."

She smirked at him, and walked back into the kitchen.

"For what?" She said softly. "I should be thanking you."

She picked up her tea with both hands, and now that it was cooled down, she could drink it comfortably. She looked at Ikuto solemnly, and brushed a flyaway strand of bright pink hair from her forehead.

"As cliché as it sounds, if you hadn't come, I probably would've… died."

She shivered at the new-found thought.

She really may have died if he hadn't come.

_You would've died, Amu. _

Despite how much she'd wished it hadn't been him, maybe Ikuto was the exact person she needed to protect her from those men.

"…Thank you," she whispered.

At that moment, she felt an inexplicable and irrevocable respect for Ikuto. There were so many things she wished to say to him; so much she wished to tell him… for a fleeting moment, she simply wished to hold him in her arms once more and tell him how much she missed him…

…How much she still loved him.

But she couldn't do it.

Despite the brilliance of the flame that she held for him once, over time, that brilliance had died down to a dull glow. Nevertheless... her heart was still glowing after all.

A soft smile found its way to her lips.

"…Thank you, Ikuto."

His name felt so wonderful to whisper again.

* * *

_(A/N) - D'aww_

_i am aware that the end of this chapter is ex-to the-stremely cheezy. but hey, every writer has cheezy moments that they just can't seem to think to replace. am i right? yeah, i'm right. _

_kay. so review, yes? after doing so, you may proceed with the story._


	6. Mystery Of You

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 5

* * *

Kuukai opened the door to his room with a yawn and an obnoxious stretch.

He shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. He had too many things in his hands anyway. He stuffed his wallet into the large pocket of his sweats, as well as the bulky handle of the dog leash. In the process, he nearly crashed into the stair railing. He shook his head violently.

_Jeez, Kuukai. Wake up. _

He recovered from his close shave, and walked slowly up the curved staircase, while simultaneously slipping a black wife beater over his bare chest.

_Finally. Empty hands. _

Just in time to open Amu's surprisingly unlocked door.

When he took a first glance into her apartment, however, the unlocked door didn't surprise him so much.

"Ah – didn't expect to see you awake." Kuukai flashed his trademark smirk at the figure leaning against the doorway of her bedroom.

"…I'm a light sleeper."

"I just came to get the dog. He's going running with me. Aren'tcha, boy?"

Kuukai knelt down and ruffled the retriever's fur, just as he came trotting up to him, tail wagging.

The dog looked up at the cat-like man, and growled quietly. Kuukai chuckled.

"Ah, don't mind him. He doesn't take a liking to cats."

He, however, did not laugh; for he was not to be teased. Instead, he made a subtle attempt to gaze into the adjoining bedroom just a few steps away. Kuukai noticed. His eyebrow cocked slightly, and his smirk widened.

"You got her pretty worked up last night, you know. I don't think I've ever seen her look more scared."

"Does she always sleep in this late?" He asked lowly; lithely.

"Late?" Kuukai chuckled. "On the weekends, this is early for her. That job of hers drains her."

He processed the information. Then he was silent.

Kuukai shrugged, hooked the leash onto Tucker's collar, and opened the front door. He took a step into the hall, but stopped. He smirked, looking distantly at the ground.

"She may have been scared… but that was also the most emotion I've seen her show in a long time. Just don't screw this up, alright?"

And with that, Kuukai walked out the door.

The apartment was still and silent once again. Only the sound of the rain trickling against the windowpane echoed through his thoughts as he watched her sleep.

-0-0-0-0-

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP –_

"Ugh…grr…"

Amu cursed herself.

_Stupid Amu. Turn off your alarm on the weekends. _

She haphazardly flung her arm to her bedside table, and groped around wildly for the obnoxious contraption causing the early-morning disturbance. She found a clock-shaped lump, and coincidentally, seemed to press every button imaginable _but_ the alarm disable. In the furious craze to stop its uproar, she lifted it and slammed it as hard as possible onto the table.

The noise had ceased.

She groaned quietly, in half-relief, half-resentment.

Now, she had no choice but to get up.

No matter what time it was, if Amu was awakened, _Amu was awakened_. She sat up, threw her legs over the side of her bed, and sat erect in that position for several minutes. She slowly rubbed her temples.

_Why did she have such a massive headache?_ Her head seemed crowded with thought, and yet, there was no thought on her mind other than that very question itself.

When she looked down, she also noticed that she was in ratted jeans and a huge cottony sweater from the thrift store. What was she doing last night? Perhaps she watched too many movies, or maybe she absent-mindedly slipped in the entire 3rd and 4th season of Gilmore Girls and pressed "play all"… yeah, maybe that's what happened.

Unfortunately, she couldn't remember a thing.

She slipped on her silky black bathrobe, and although she shivered slightly in the morning autumn chill, she didn't bother slipping pajama pants beneath it.

It occurred to her that she remembered one thing about the night before; it was _not_ easy getting to sleep. She had the strangest nightmare… what it was, she couldn't remember, but it troubled her. She hadn't had nightmares – or dreams, rather – since she was a teenager.

Amu slipped on a pair of bright yellow slippers, and slowly and steadily gaited out of her room. Her slippers dragged on the kitchen tiles, creating a slow and steady rhythm to fill the silence.

There was another noise, however – water, trickling… coming from her room?

She whirled around, only to catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of the huge, wall length window along the outside wall of her apartment.

_Ah – rain._

She sighed.

The remnants of summer occurred on occasional autumn days, but the bitterly cold rain had been falling sporadically for days, only adding to the misery of Amu's dull, torturous life.

Amu leaned against the counter, and held her stomach tightly. A queasy feeling was taking over her, and she felt pressure squeezing her head.

_A headache again?_

She breathed in and out, very slowly. She heard the familiar _clack-clack_ against the kitchen tiles, and looked up to see Tucker bouncing toward her, tongue hanging lazily. He looked up at her and whined slightly. She rolled her eyes.

_Kuukai probably forgot to feed him again when he took him for a run this morning. _

She turned around to her stove, and began boiling water for tea. She opened her food pantry, and pulled out the one and only box of cereal in the cabinet – good old-fashioned Cheerios. She looked up to see her reflection in the kitchen mirror.

She groaned. Her bright fuchsia hair was definitely _not_ attractively disheveled.

Amu ran her hand through her hair, roughly smoothing out the tangles. Her bangs came rushing back to her face, and her long pink hair cascaded down the silky black robe on her back. She spied the remote on the kitchen counter, and without a thought of her actions, she clicked the power button in the general direction of the TV just a living room away.

Some monotone, deep-voiced news lady was talking about the weather.

Rain, rain, rain.

_Great. A pick-me-up memo._

She bent over and filled Tucker's food bowl with the horrendous smelling dog food, as she was being demanded to by his antsy prancing around on her kitchen. But when she filled up his bowl, he simply looked at it, sniffed it, and trotted over to her bedroom door. Then he just stared into her bedroom.

He couldn't possibly have to go out, right? Kuukai _just_ took him out running. But why was he staring into her bedroom?

She groaned. _Men_.

She picked up an orange on the edge of her counter, and dug her fingernail into the thick, juicy peel. The dull news channel on the TV was not at all entertaining, so she picked up the remote to change the channel… but then a picture caught her attention.

Suddenly, the sleepy feeling in her system disappeared.

She was _wide_ awake now.

"…and an official search party has been dispatched for his retrieval. Two eye witnesses believed that a figure in the shadows, on Dalloway Street located the suburbs of Seiyo City, looked strikingly similar to the talented, blue-eyed violinist. Anyone who has seen, or may have any ideas as to the whereabouts of this man, is being implored by Mr. Tsukiyomi's family and his sponsors to speak to an officer or official as soon as possible. Ikuto Tsukiyomi is fairly well known; he has –"

She turned off the TV.

The remote came crashing down to the floor.

_I…Ikuto…!_

The orange in her hand dropped to the ground with a dull thud, and rolled across the kitchen tiles.

Without any further hesitation, she dashed across the apartment room to the black couch in the middle of the wood floor –

The couch was empty.

Everything came rushing back to her at the speed of light – the darkness, the rain, the gunshots, the blood… everything.

_And Ikuto._

Her frantic, wide-eyed gaze darted around the apartment, searching for any glimpse of the tall, blue-haired man; nothing. He was gone. He had just appeared in her life, and now he was gone.

A bolt of panic was surging through her body, making her tingle with fright.

_Where is he?_

Amu paced back and forth. She rubbed her cold, clammy hands together fiercely.

_He couldn't have escaped… he was bleeding incessantly! He's too weak!_

She suddenly wanted to slap herself.

_'Escape'? Amu, you sound like a slave driver!_

Amu couldn't believe that last night had completely slipped her mind as it had. Ikuto had been here, in her apartment, on her couch… now he was gone?

_There's a search party out for him… I'm sure someone will report his whereabouts to the police… b__ut what if no one sees him? He's always been sly and devious – who knows what he's trying to do…!_

Amu forced herself to breathe deeply, and calm herself. Her nerves were a little more at ease, and her mind was slightly more relaxed.

_Calm down, Amu. You don't care where he goes, or what he does – he can survive on his own. _

She took in a deep breath, and even attempted a small flustered smirk.

_Well. Now, at least, he's out of my hair. _

She lifted the string of her silky black robe, and tied it loosely around her waist. She felt a unique, bizarre sort of refreshment that was very short-lived…

_At least I don't have to deal with him. _

…until a deep voice erupted behind her.

"Your water is boiling."

"WHAT THE –"

Amu leaped out of her skin, and every calm nerve in her body abruptly snapped at the low voice in her apartment. She whirled around, and instantly, all feeling and senses within her had died.

"…I-Ik… uto…?"

She couldn't even utter his name properly. She was officially sick of this scared feeling in her gut, in her mind, and in her quivering, clammy hands. She felt goose bumps all over her body just at the sight of his luminous, perfect chest, tainted with bruises and white bandages that reminded her of everything. His midnight-blue hair was dripping wet, and a white towel was slung lazily over his head. His eyes were piercing and sparkling, penetrating deeply into hers without a ghost of an effort.

She was still trying hard just to breathe.

"Wh-what are you…?"

He slung the white towel nonchalantly over his shoulder. He walked from her bedroom doorway to her kitchen, and Amu instinctively stepped back several paces until ramming into the counter, but felt incessantly stupid when he simply and casually flipped the lid off of her screaming tea kettle.

"I re-did the bandages myself," he stated bluntly, as if she cared or something.

She nodded faintly, and made some sort of sigh of approval, still trying her hardest to soak in the current situation.

Ikuto's deep, midnight blue eyes were still burning holes into her very flesh. She noticed his eyes trailing downward, and she suddenly snapped out of her daze. Her hand instinctively flew to her upper robe, clutching both sides of the revealing fabric just above her chest. She also stepped behind the kitchen island to hide her bare legs. She didn't think before she spoke, but speaking somehow seemed like one of the best decisions at the time.

"H-how are you feeling?"

"Fine." He answered casually.

"Are your wounds healing?"

"Not really."

"Umm… did you clean them?"

"Yeah."

She inwardly smacked herself.

_Idiot… he took a shower. _

She looked at the ground, and saw her half-peeled orange still wobbling on the kitchen tiles. She reached down and picked it up.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, prompted by the rolling food on her kitchen floor.

Ikuto didn't answer. He wasn't looking at her anymore, and she knew what that meant.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

She tied the string of her robe around her waist once more, covering herself more adequately. She ran her hand through her hair roughly, and took in a deep breath.

_Just handle it cool, Amu. You're not a clumsy high-school kid anymore. _

However, with Ikuto there, it certainly made her feel like one all over again.

Amu walked across the kitchen, to the refrigerator – causing an awkward encounter with Ikuto's tall, muscular, steamy, half-naked form – and pulled out a carton of milk from the shelf. She picked up an orange out of the fruit bowl, and turned around. When she made sure that he was paying attention, she tossed it to him. He caught it with one hand.

Amu cringed, and wanted to smack herself again.

_**Stupid**__! Injuries! Focus!_

Amu finally leaned against the counter, watching with amusement as Ikuto dully fidgeted with the orange. He seemed to be having trouble peeling it. She rolled her eyes, and walked over to him, snatching it from his hands. She pinched the thick skin and began tossing fragments of orange peel onto the kitchen counter.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?" She asked. She tried her hardest to sound firm.

"Not really."

He paused.

"…You were snoring."

_Wha –? _

"Snoring?" She whirled around.

One look at his slightly curled lip told her that _no_, as a matter of fact, she was _not_ snoring. She growled.

_He's still a moron. _

She slammed the naked orange back into his hand, with added drama for extra effect. Of all things, she'd thought that at least his maturity level would change after all these years.

Apparently, she was wrong.

She was silent after that. She refused to speak, simply because she was running out of things to say. The pressure of the enclosed space, the gloomy lighting, and the minimal conversation was taking its toll on her already pulsating headache. She had no idea when she'd begun to get so flustered around a man –

But Ikuto was no man.

He was a stupid, thoughtless, cocky, catlike, idiotic moron.

_Stupid Amu... name calling will get you nowhere in life. _

She poured the steaming hot water into her favorite mug.

"They're looking for you, y'know," she muttered, trying to calm her angry thoughts. "You're all over the news."

"You sleep in later than you used to."

Amu was slightly thrown off by the unrelated comment. She set the kettle down on the stove gently. She turned her head stiffly, and looked at him incredulously.

"…What?"

Ikuto looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Well… as much as an expressionless man like him _could_ look like a deer caught in headlights.

Amu almost snickered. _Did he mean to say that?_

"You used to wake up early," he said lowly.

_Hm. Smooth recovery. _

She thought back to her teen days, bringing a smile to her face.

She remembered… waking up early to watch the sunrise every morning on the deck of her childhood home. She smiled. Every morning, she looked forward to watching the sunrise with him; when he embraced her in his arms, and she wished with everything in her being that the sunrise would never end.

Her smile faded.

_You were only 16. _

She shook her head slowly, inwardly fearing that she had displayed a tell-tale spectrum of emotions at the mention of her childhood.

"So you've noticed," she simply said lowly.

She stirred the tea bag into the hot water, watching as the dark-colored flavor spread in long, thin streams throughout the liquid.

"Well. Some people don't get as much sleep as others do," she glanced at Ikuto subtly, "so they seize opportunities when they can."

She lifted the cup into her hands, and turned around to face Ikuto and lean against the counter.

"Besides; sunsets don't exist in a dull city like this."

Ikuto said nothing – only stared at the orange in his hands, untouched. She would have expected him to make some sort of retort, some sort of jab at her pride; but he remained silent. From what she remembered, this was very unlike him.

_…Maybe he really has changed._

Amu sighed, and stood upright. She set her tea on the counter, and looked at Ikuto. He was still holding the orange.

"I'm going to take a shower," she stated matter-of-factly. "Will you be okay?"

He shrugged. She wasted no time in obtaining that as some form of 'yes', and pulling her hair on top of her head with her hands.

She would've tied it with a hair-tie, but it was missing from her wrist.

She was in shock.

Her ever-faithful hair-tie…

_Where, oh where, have you gone? _

She scanned the kitchen counters briefly, still holding her hair sloppily with one hand.

Ikuto seemed to notice the distraught expression on her face.

"It's on the chair," he muttered, without looking at her.

Amu glanced at him questionably. He jerked his head in the general direction of the khaki chair in the living room, and Amu followed his motion. She stepped slowly into the living room, and peeked at the chair –

She felt such relief.

There it was, lying plainly on the chair's cushion. She picked up the black elastic hair band, and finally tied up her bright, electric pink hair into a loose, high ponytail. She then looked at Ikuto with blunt confusion.

"How did you…?"

He didn't look at her. He simply stared at the wall, and said dully,

"It fell out when you were asleep."

"…Oh."

She walked over to her open bedroom door, but suddenly, something struck her.

Painfully.

"…Wait, what?"

She stared at Ikuto incredulously.

"Asleep? On the chair? But I woke up…"

Ikuto's expression still hadn't changed when he looked at Amu.

"You looked uncomfortable."

She froze.

Amu suddenly… wanted to hide under a rock.

_He… he carried you…?_

"Oh my – d-did you seriously – h-how did you… why…?"

Ikuto smirked deftly. He seemed amused about something.

Amu, however, was less than entertained. (Although she had to admit that seeing his smirk again gave her butterflies.)

"Oh my god; w… why didn't you say anything?" She squawked angrily.

He shrugged, apathetic.

"Didn't have anything to say."

He walked over to her couch, and reclined lazily.

"But, y'know, there is one thing…"

Amu could care less what the 'one thing' was, but for some reason, when that 'one thing' belonged to an injured man that had saved her life, there was an exception.

She whirled around, slightly ticked.

"And what is that?"

Ikuto's eye gleamed with deviousness.

"…You're heavier than you look."

Amu clenched her fist, and gritted her teeth.

She should've seen it coming.

Whether she chose to accept it or not, in more ways than one, Ikuto was exactly the same as he had been all those years ago.

But then again… not all of those characteristics were so wrong. After avoiding him all these years, she'd missed out on all of the things that had changed about him – now that he was back into her life, it was like meeting him for the first time all over again.

Although she still had feelings for him, he didn't romantically monopolize her thoughts as he had so many years ago. Yet still, it was safe to say that Ikuto…

_Intrigued_ her.

It almost thrilled her dull little world.

As Amu walked into the shower, she couldn't help but let out a smirk.

Time with this stranger will certainly be…

_Interesting. _

* * *

_(A/N) - interesting indeed, eh, Amu?_

_alrighty. move along now, nothing to see here. _

_except the review button. see it? isn't it perty? push it, yes?_


	7. End of Silence

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 6

* * *

"Here you go, little lady."

"Thanks, Mr. Mills."

"No problem, darlin'. You be sure an' take care o' that houseguest, now."

"Sure," she said half-heartedly.

Amu walked down the wet sidewalk, slowing her pace to rearrange the grocery bags hanging across her arms. Then she picked up her pace once more, bizarrely eager to get home.

Well, she wouldn't really dub her sudden burst of emotion 'eagerness'…

She simply worried of the state of her apartment, leaving that sloppy cat all alone to infest it.

It hadn't exactly been her idea to leave Ikuto at the apartment alone, just after being shot by street thugs and threatened of a further beating, and currently being searched for by his friends and family and a few curious reporters. But she had run out of gauze, as well as disinfectant, and Ikuto's wounds were still bleeding occasionally. It's not like she kept these things displayed on her mantel to attract wounded men. She'd simply inherited them from her mother, who had worried incessantly of her when she'd gone off to college.

Speaking of which, she hadn't seen her mother lately…

Perhaps she should know what's going on?

_Nonsense, Amu. You haven't even told your friends about it, and your mother and you are not exactly on speaking terms. _

Suddenly, Amu stopped walking. She had a revelation.

Ikuto's family and friends were searching for him. His face is plastered all over the news.

_So what the heck is he doing at her apartment?_

Was he _trying_ to make her look bad?

She was positive that his prestigious aristocratic life across the country could prove much healthier for his wounds. Judging by the refusal of the police, or even a hospital, Amu would almost guess that he didn't _want_ to be found.

Ridiculous. He's famous now. He can do whatever he wants. And most importantly, he gets to play that silly violin whenever he wants.

_But then again…_

Amu began walking once more, at a decent pace rather than quickly, remembering that daydreaming and walking did _not_ collide well in her world.

Ikuto had no full-blooded family. His real father had disappeared when he was a child, and his mother had died when he was 16 – she remembered the moment well.

He didn't seem the least bit saddened, with which to comfort. The only emotion she could relieve him of was his anger and hatred toward his stepfather, who then had total control of Ikuto's life. Ikuto hated his stepfather, Hoshina Kazuomi, with every fiber of his being. Amu had felt so helpless at that time; all she could do was stand by Ikuto and embrace him silently.

Ikuto had a sister, Hoshina Utau – a good friend of Amu's – but he had found her doting foolishness to be annoying from the beginning. And Utau was currently on tour for her new album, so hiding out with her was about as inconspicuous as hiding under a cardboard box.

So basically… he really did have nowhere to turn.

Ikuto's stepfather would surely be irate if he knew that Ikuto was staying with Amu. She shuddered just thinking of the man's temper. He was the head of the Easter corporation somewhere in central Seiyo, one of the top companies in all of Japan. Amu had no idea, however, what the company's purpose was. Everything Ikuto had ever informed her of it was simply, "It's bad," as was his opinion of his stepfather. Hoshina already found Ikuto to be free-spirited and foolish. And Amu knew that he didn't find much favor in her, either.

She finally gave in.

_I guess it really is better for him to go lay low – make that __**invisible**__ – for a while. _

But… just… why _her_?

It must have been some sort of spiteful act of revenge by God that Ikuto had conveniently saved _her_ life, thus appealing to her pitying side. If it wasn't her life he saved, he wouldn't be currently residing in her apartment!

And yet…

A part of her was grateful to that reimbursing God that brought what she'd lost back into her life.

Still, she wasn't quite ready to accept the fact that she still had feelings for him.

The more she thought about it, the more she began to pity Ikuto. He clearly didn't deserve the torturous lifestyle he was living.

_But he's __**so**__ freaking famous…!_

The thought kept occurring and reoccurring in her mind, tainting her previously pleasant views of Ikuto.

Maybe… fame isn't what he wants in life. He always _was_ humble. He never flaunted his ability to play the violin. He simply played for pure enjoyment. Maybe… he just wanted to play for him, not for money, not for others, not even for his stepfather.

Her mind drifted, reminiscing of the nights the two had shared, under the crystal stars of those cold winter nights. Curled up with a blanket, Amu listened to him play, so serenely, so peacefully. Somehow, the cold winter nights didn't seem so cold when he'd play for her. She smiled. She remembered that she'd always ask for a happy song, trying her hardest to steer Ikuto away from the ominous, minor sounding keys. Then, her heart sailed at the first clear, soft tone.

But that was then.

_This, Amu, is now._

_The present. The present in which you hate the dull, deafening sound of a violin. _

She opened the door to her small, two-condo apartment building, and shut it behind her. She let out a large sigh, as if letting out every thought that had crossed her mind on the walk to and from the supermarket. She walked up the stairs with some difficulty, arguing with the groceries in her hands, only to have her anger transferred and directed toward her stupid door, along with her equally stupid key.

Finally, the lock gave way, and Amu walked into her apartment, not bothering to shut the door. Kuukai, the only other person in the small complex, was probably out at the gym or something.

She briefly ignored Tucker's happy panting, and piled the bags atop the kitchen counter. She bent down to roughly tussle the dog's fur, to receive a slobbery, yet affectionate lick in return. She wiped her cheek brusquely, shooting the dog an angry glare, and stood. She walked quietly a few steps across the apartment, and peered over top of the couch. Ikuto lay sleeping like a baby, one hand tucked under his head and the other dangling over the edge of the couch. She smirked.

He looked _so_ naive.

She brushed off the sudden urge to take a picture.

Instead, she let out a small smirk and walked back into the kitchen. She looked at the clock on the wall.

_1:40 in the afternoon? How'd it get so late?_

Amu leaned against the kitchen counter, contemplating what to do. Although she was opposed to spending a Saturday taking care of an injured man, Ikuto and his wounds seemed to be the main priority on her list.

Let's see…

What more could she do to benefit him? She'd already given him total control of her couch, checked his wounds for bleeding (none to be found), given him breakfast…

_Wait, no!_

_Oh, stupid, stupid Amu!_

She couldn't imagine how starved the poor cat must have been. But no, he's too cool to admit to hunger. She cringed.

_An orange, Amu? That's what __**you**__ ate. _

Granted, she herself had a fairly hefty appetite, but Ikuto was a _male_. It took more than a measly orange to fill him up. _And did he even touch the orange in the first place?_ The last she recalled, he was still inspecting the peeled piece of fruit when she'd hopped in the shower.

She reached up to the top cabinet of her kitchen pantry, and pulled out a bag of bread – whole wheat, of course. She'd been raised on the stuff. She actually grew to like it once her tastes matured. She opened the refrigerator in a rush, nearly tripping over her oversized golden retriever.

She pulled out everything she thought she'd need – ham, lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo – skip the pickles. Who said he deserved such extravagance?

Naturally, hauling them all out of the refrigerator was a challenge. A challenge that she did _not_, by any means, feel like taking on. But it was too late now. She groaned. She couldn't move. And if she dropped something, she'd wake Ikuto. Not to mention splatter the food item all over her precious kitchen floor.

_Ugh. Why was life so tragic?_

"Need a little help?" Kuukai's familiar chuckle resounded behind her.

"Get your butt over here." She skipped the begging and pleading.

He entered through her open door, and finally relieved her of some of her burdens. He set the condiments on the kitchen island.

"Planning to take a trip?" He questioned, surveying the grocery bags and various food items on the island.

"Smart mouth," she whispered harshly. "And don't be so loud."

"Oh, right. The sleeping kitty." He whispered with his usual lively grin.

Amu rolled her eyes, and immediately took out two pieces of bread. They landed with a muted thud onto a paper plate on the counter, and Kuukai's interest was officially peaked.

"A sandwich? For me? Why, you shouldn't have."

"Good. I didn't."

She lathered mayo on one piece of the bread with a knife.

"It's for Ikuto," she said quietly.

Kuukai waited a while to speak, just to watch her expression. She seemed a little livelier than she had last night. Maybe the night's rest had done her good after all. He was surprised that she had even gotten any. For as long as he could remember, Amu had never been able to sleep if something was troubling her. She'd lie awake, thinking, pondering; even sometimes crying. That had only happened once, and he _never_ wanted to see it happen again. Not only did Kuukai hate to see girls cry, to see Amu cry was like a whole other experience.

He knew she still held on to remnants of that childish 'cool and spicy' character that she would put on in front of the world. She'd grown so accustomed to it that it became a part of her. So, ever since Ikuto left her life, he'd left a permanent scar in place of his absence.

When Kuukai had always thought Amu was too tough to cry, she fell into his arms and wept with anguish and pain. She was only 16. To have something so traumatizing happen to her at such a young age _had_ to have been hard… but _crying_? _Amu_ _Hinamori?_

Kuukai came to one conclusion, and one alone.

Amu… had loved Ikuto with all her heart. There was no _way_ a love like that could be extinguished, even after being separated for so long.

_That was the part of it all that was so hard to accept. _

"Speaking of which, how's he doing?" Kuukai spoke after a minimal silence.

She sighed.

"His wounds are healing _very_ slowly. Just when I think they're about to close up, they start bleeding again. When he wakes up, I'll have to change his bandages."

Kuukai replaced the last word in her sentence with "diaper", and chuckled to himself at the thought. However, there was no telling when Tsukiyomi Ikuto was asleep or awake, so he thought it best not to share his thoughts.

"How'd you even know I was up here in the first place?" She asked.

"Eh, I heard you come in. These floors are pretty thin, y'know." He bent down to ruffle the dog's fur. "By the way, I think Tucker's toenails need to be trimmed."

"Don't remind me," she grumbled.

She did not look pleasant as she slapped ham and lettuce on the sandwich, resentment in her eyes as she realized that the tomato was not yet chopped.

"So did you want something?" She said bluntly as she sliced the tomato with stifled anger.

Kuukai scratched his head obnoxiously.

"Yeah, but I can't remember."

Amu huffed, and placed a single slice of tomato on the sandwich. Kuukai continued to scratch his head thoughtfully, until finally, his index finger shot up.

"Oh yeah! I met Nagihiko on the sidewalk this morning. By any chance did you want to keep Tsukiyomi a secret or anything?"

Amu froze.

Kuukai thought she'd gone into cardiac arrest.

"What? YES!"

Kuukai chuckled. Her eyes were larger than he'd ever seen them. He let out his impish grin.

"Good! 'Cause I didn't tell him."

Amu's facial expression relaxed dramatically. She shot him an angry glare.

"Moron. Don't do that."

"Oh, but I did kinda tell him that you were deathly ill in order to avoid letting out your little secret."

Amu shot him an 'are-you-serious?' glare. Then, she simply sighed and finished off the sandwich by pressing the piece of bread to the other half.

"Whatever. Just try not to slip up on it next time." She sighed. "Call me crazy, but ruining my reputation by a leaked rumor about an injured celebrity holed up in my apartment does _not_ appeal to me."

"Gotcha." He produced his trademark thumbs-up sign, and turned around to head out the door.

Amu noticed that he took a glance at the sleeping Ikuto on her couch, and suddenly, it hit her.

"Kuukai," she called out, louder than she meant to.

He whirled around, slightly bewildered.

"Yeah?"

Amu smiled forcefully.

"Thanks. For everything."

He beamed.

"There it is!"

Amu's smile dropped, replaced by a look of bewilderment.

"There what is?"

"Your smile!" He laughed. "I could'a sworn it was gone forever."

She blushed, and Kuukai simply smiled that cheesy grin once more. His eyebrow rose momentarily, and he nodded toward the couch.

"Maybe now, it'll stay around for a while."

He winked.

"I'll see ya, Amu."

And with that, he slipped out of her door, leaving Amu in a bemused state.

_What was that supposed to mean? _

She shrugged. He was probably trying to make some sort of sly flirtatious joke about her and Ikuto. She rolled her eyes, and returned back to her sandwich-making, only to realize that she was finished.

Another thing she realized?

She was _hungry_.

She reluctantly set to work on making another sandwich.

Surprisingly, though it may have been a simple flirtatious joke, Amu could not get Kuukai's words out of her head.

_'Maybe it'll stay around for a while…' What, your smile?_

Amu knew she didn't smile much lately, but she had absolutely _nothing_ to be hunky-dory about.

She'd almost gotten raped, captured, or worse, her savior had gotten shot twice, her savior happened to be the man she'd fallen in love with five years ago and who'd left her, and her savior happened to be a famous musician who is being hunted by rich people and God-knows-how-many police squads.

Amu paused, and contemplated every word that had just passed through her mind.

Savior.

Savior.

_…Savior._

She cringed.

Ikuto had saved her life. No matter how many times she tried to twist reality, in the end, everything came back to Ikuto being the hero.

So why did she find that so hard to understand?

Somehow, everything about him made her feel so frustrated, and so angry. Countless times, she'd try to blame him for everything that had happened to her in the past five years – the depression, the fatigue, the loneliness – but then, when she remembered the happenstance in full, her anger diverted directly to herself.

After all, it was her fault that he'd left without her.

She'd refused him; and he didn't ask again.

Now, looking back, how badly she wished that he would've.

She knew she didn't make the right decision. All Ikuto wanted was to play his music, with her by his side. But she wasn't ready for that yet. She wasn't ready for things to change from the way they were. She loved things the way they were, and she never wanted them to change. But she was so young, and so foolishly and blindly in love.

But she'd never told him.

Not once.

Of all the years they were together, _in love_, not once did Amu speak the words "I love you."

But he'd told her, alright.

Those were the words that had haunted her from that moment on; the words he'd whispered just as he'd leaped out of the window, and out of her life.

But there was no chance that he felt the same love toward her now.

She wasn't even sure that he loved her then. Surely, he couldn't possibly have meant the three words. Because, if he loved her so much, then why…

She clenched her fists tightly, digging her nails into her skin.

_Why the hell…_

She felt hot tears sting at her eyes.

_Why did he leave her behind…?_

"Why… did you let him leave you behind…?" She whispered, voice shaking.

She shook her head violently, unclenched her fist, and took a deep breath. She wiped the tears away.

_No, Amu._

_Not now._

Suddenly, she heard a knock at her door. She caught her breath. The first thing that came to her twisted mind was an image of those two disgusting thugs.

But what popped his head into Amu's apartment gave her an unspeakable relief.

"Oh, Nagi…" She breathed, clutching her fluttering stomach.

He gave her a quizzical brow, smiling.

"Am I interrupting something?"

She smiled briefly, still somewhat shaken.

"No, c'mon in."

The blue-haired man entered her apartment gracefully, followed by a bright flash of color. He pulled a lovely arrangement of flowers from behind his back, smiling suavely.

Amu recognized them in a heartbeat. Lilacs and calla lilies; her absolute favorite. She smiled.

"What's the occasion?"

He stepped in further, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"I thought I'd check up on you. Kuukai told me you were sick – how are you feeling?" He looked genuinely concerned.

Amu suddenly remembered Kuukai's words.

_Deathly ill?_

_Kuukai, you moron…_

"Oh, much, much better," she lied, trying to conceal her stutter. "I think I was just having a few dizzy spells."

He looked at her inquisitively. Amu shrank back, hiding her embarrassment.

_Crap it! Wrong word! Dizzy spells, Amu? __**Seriously**__?_

"Oh, really? Kuukai mentioned something about you… oh, never mind. He tends to exaggerate."

"Oh, yes he does…" She laughed nervously.

_Kuukai_. _You're going to die._

"Feeling hungry, Amu?" He laughed, pointing to the sandwich on the counter, while looking at the sandwich in her hand.

She froze. She had forgotten.

Ikuto… was on the couch just a few paces away.

Nagihiko… was in her kitchen, questioning the capacity of her appetite.

_What was she going to do?_

"N-no, this is for Kuukai," she stuttered.

"Oh. You had me startled for a minute there," he laughed innocently.

Amu's heart raced with relief, and immediately, panic came rushing in soon after. She knew she couldn't possibly keep it a secret any longer – not from Nagihiko.

"Nagi…" She whispered, her throat scratchy.

She couldn't bear to look at him, but she knew that his deep brown eyes were staring directly at her.

"What is it, Amu?" He asked, his tone full of concern.

She breathed in sharply, and clenched her fist.

_He's your friend, Amu. You can trust him. He __**has**__ to know._

She looked up at him, steadfast and resolved.

"Last night, I was attacked."

Nagihiko looked shocked. He instantly and impulsively reached for her hands, clutching them tightly.

"Oh my God, Amu, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, still solemn.

"I'm fine."

_Don't be concerned yet._

_The worst is still to come. _

"Someone r-rescued me," she continued, just barely audibly.

He breathed a sigh of relief, still grasping her dainty hands in his, "I'm so glad."

She looked down again, breathing shakily.

"But he was shot, twice, and he was badly bleeding. S-so I brought him… back to my apartment," she said slowly.

Nagihiko looked confused.

"You did? Why didn't you call an ambulance?"

"He said he didn't want the police involved."

Nagihiko took a moment to process this information. Amu waited in silence to hear the dreaded response.

"Is he still here?" He asked tenderly.

She held her breath.

"…Yes," she exhaled.

Nagihiko sighed inwardly, trying his best to seem as optimistic as possible. Amu looked terrified out of her mind, and he hated more than anything to see her like this. He squeezed her hands gently, stroking her hand with his thumb. He looked into her eyes, trying his best to make eye contact beneath her bangs.

"Where is he, Amu?" He asked her gently, careful of her brimming emotions.

She brought her gaze up, and looked over to the living room. Her gaze was fixated on the dreaded couch where her hero slept.

And to her earnest chagrin, Nagihiko released his grip on her hands, and walked in slow, deadly strides to the living room couch.

His face fell when his eyes laid on him.

Amu couldn't bear to watch. She looked down, hair hiding her face.

_There_. _It's done. _

_Now you sit, you wait, and you suffer the consequences. _

Not a word was spoken for at least a full minute. To both of them, it felt like hours.

Nagihiko was shocked beyond comprehension. Every emotion he'd felt before this moment was gone – pain took its place.

_**Him**__. _

_Tsukiyomi Ikuto._

He tightened his fists, quivering. His throat clenched.

"…Amu."

* * *

_(A/N) - oops. way to tell the guy who hates him. _

_i decided to shove tadase aside for a while - he's had far too much of the spotlight in way of amu's affections, don't you agree? i like nagi much better anyway. he's just so freakin' cute :D_

_next chapter! onward ho!_


	8. Overtake You

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 7

* * *

"…**Amu**."

She cringed.

Nagihiko's tone sounded different. She hardly recognized the voice as his. What was it that made the sound of his voice so unrecognizable? Anger? Fear? Remorse?

She couldn't see his face, and it was killing her. She hated seeing Nagihiko, of all people, this mortified.

Nagihiko's bangs rushed to his face when he looked down. His clenched fists were quivering.

Amu's hands were quivering as well; she was scared out of her mind that he was irately furious. She was fearful of him storming out of her apartment, doomed to never talk to her ever again.

But before she could say something, he suddenly whirled around, his low navy ponytail swishing behind him. Amu was shocked when he looked at her with a pitying smile.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asked, tone much softer.

Amu felt an inexplicable relief at that moment. She finally unleashed a breath, clutching her aching stomach tightly.

"I… I thought you'd be angry."

He walked forward, still smiling with a worried brow.

"No, no, I'm not angry with you. I'm just…"

He took one more glance at the couch, and claimed Amu's hands in his own once more.

"…Concerned. Amu, how in the _world_ did Tsukiyomi Ikuto find _you_ and rescue _you_, of all people?" He looked at her, his peaceful brown eyes filled with anxious worry.

As requested, she told him the whole story, in one breath, excluding minor details. She waited for his response patiently, clutching his hands tighter, nervous. He freed one of his hands, brushing a hand through his hair quietly. He sighed.

"This is definitely… fairly big," he breathed, seeming to be contemplating something.

He stroked Amu's soft hand with his thumb gently, simultaneously stroking his chin in deep thought. He just needed time to think; to sort things through.

This was _not_ what he'd expected to walk in on when he'd entered Amu's apartment.

The moment the first words were uttered from her mouth, Nagihiko was panic-stricken beyond belief. To think that Amu may have been hurt sent shivers up his spine.

Then, Nagihiko saw **him**.

His stomach clenched just _thinking_ of that foolish smirk. Every thought of the tall, blue-eyed high school heartthrob made Nagihiko irately angry – something that did not happen easily. No matter how many times Nagihiko tried, he saw absolutely nothing decent in that sarcastic, sadistic violinist that Amu had fallen so deeply in love with.

And he'd tried many, _many_ times.

He couldn't imagine what kind of love would propel him to simply leave Amu behind. That, no matter how it is proportioned, was despicable. Nagihiko was disgusted by his lack of faithfulness in trying situations. Nagi had finally come to a conclusion – Tsukiyomi never loved Amu; or else he never would've dreamed of leaving her behind.

He would've stayed by her side, no matter what the cost. Nagihiko couldn't imagine the pain he'd caused her when he left. Amu was frozen numb for at least three days. She refused to eat; she had to be forced. Then, after some of the numbness subsided, and she ate, slept, and functioned on her own, she did not smile for at least another year.

Clearly, she'd loved him more than he could ever know. It was painfully evident to Nagihiko that after Tsukiyomi left, Amu would never be the same again.

It seemed like when he'd left, the very heart that beat within her left with him.

He'd hurt her. _That_… was inexcusable.

That's why, after that, Nagihiko did everything he could to make Amu feel happy again. He felt hatred toward no one, and he smiled at her whenever he could. He would never leave her side. He did his best to make her forget the mistake she made with that cruel man.

But he failed.

There was no way a love like hers could be forgotten.

So, he could only hope for the remnants of her shattered heart when he eventually confessed his love for her one day; the remnants of a heart that once belonged to the one man he'd ever hated in his life.

But Amu could _never_ see that hatred. _No matter what._

He looked up at Amu through the fuchsia bangs covering her eyes.

"How is he?" He asked, lowering his voice as much as possible.

Amu looked into his chestnut brown eyes, slightly relieved that he looked genuinely concerned. From what she could see, he held no anger or resentment in his eyes.

She'd thought everyone hated Ikuto.

Was she wrong? Was Nagihiko really this forgiving?

"He… he's fine," she breathed, calming herself, convincing herself to open up. "His wounds still open up from time to time, but he should be fine. He still needs time to heal, and he apparently doesn't want to be found just yet."

Nagihiko gave her a slightly stern eye, still gentle with his words.

"Now, Amu, how do you know he's just living off of you for a few days just to make a slick getaway from the law?"

She looked at him skeptically, slightly surprised at how quickly his words had rolled off his tongue. She looked down ashamedly.

"I… I don't."

Somehow, a small, faint smile had found its way upon her face for the first time that morning.

"I guess it's just… instinct," she said, remembering the familiar words of Ikuto all too well.

He sighed, scratching the back of his head, still holding on to one of her hands tenderly. He looked at the ground, skeptical, but still pleasant.

"I don't know, Amu… something about this doesn't seem right to me. Don't you think it's a bit convenient? What if this was all a set-up? I'm just worried that it's all just a part of some sick joke, and you'll be shamed in front of the paparazzi or something."

Nagihiko wanted to slap himself for being so forward.

_Shut __**up**__, Fujisaki! What are you trying to do, make her sad again?_

Amu slipped her hand out of his, and bent down in the cupboard to pull out a flower vase. She filled it with water from the faucet. Her small smile had disappeared, replaced with a look of solemnity.

"I've thought of that, yes," she said lowly.

She gently unwrapped the beautiful flowers, and placed them gently into the teardrop-shaped glass vase. She rearranged them so that their lengths were roughly even. She placed them on the island, and smiled. The pure white calla lilies cast a warm glow on the dull, dark, rainy apartment, giving it a slightly cheerier look.

She looked at Nagihiko with a sad smile.

"But would he be willing to take two shots to the chest just for a joke? That's going pretty far, don't you think?"

Nagihiko thought for a moment, still looking doubtful; but finally smiled at her, admiring the flowers.

"I guess you're right," he sighed.

He plastered the smile on his face like he was satisfied.

But he was far from it.

There had to be some reason why Tsukiyomi had appeared in Amu's life after so long. He thought that he'd left her forever, and he'd nearly rejoiced in the fact, were it not for Amu's sorrow. But now he's returned, and conveniently saved her life? Just _why_ had he returned?  
Nagihiko scolded himself brazenly, screaming inside his head.

_Why are you trying so hard to find fault in this man?_

Although he found him a bold-faced liar, a despicable coward, and a disgusting hypocrite, it was possible that destiny simply brought him back to her, perhaps to redeem him; give him a second chance.

And although Nagihiko believed that this man did not deserve a second chance… the only person that mattered now was Amu.

And if she was happy, he could ask for nothing more.

"I guess I'm just worried about you, that's all." He chuckled, scratching his head again. "It's not every day that something like this happens."

"I know. I'm still in shock." Amu ran a hand through her soft, thin pink locks.

Nagihiko took her soft, dainty hands once more, and looked her dead in the eyes, growing serious once more.

"I just want to make sure that you're alright, Amu. If something's bothering you, or if you feel like you need anything, be sure to tell me. I'm always here."

Amu was slightly taken aback by his seriousness. She looked at him for a while, looked at their intertwined hands, and smiled at him.

"Thanks, Nagi."

He finally let out a smile.

"Anything for Amu."

She smiled.

Where had she heard _that_ before?

-0-0-0-0-

Yoru Nakamura ran a hand through his hair, breathing through his clenched teeth, standing before the ominous double-doors that led to his doom.

He breathed in silently, and turned the handle quietly, pushing the heavy door with ease.

He walked in slowly, stopping after a few paces.

The sunset outside cast an eerie glow across the dark, silent room. Yoru heard a deafening _creak_ of a swivel chair break the silence of the shadowed room, directing his attention to the wrinkled, ivory flash of skin behind the black shadow of a desk.

"Nakamura." The name resounded through the room, bounced off the walls, and flooded through Yoru's sensitive ears.

"Sir." He responded quietly.

_Surely sound is amplified by this stupid darkness. _

"He is not yet found." The low voice pulsated through his ears once more.

It was not a question – he _never_ had questions. It was a demand.

"No sir," Yoru replied resentfully.

Not that Yoru would've told the old hag anyway.

_Ikuto had spunk, that's for sure. _

"Search the lower regions of the city. Track down every acquaintance in his past that still lives in this sorry town. Every living, breathing creature that has seen his f –"

"Sir, if I may –"

"Silence, damn rat."

Yoru kept silent, seething with quiet rage.

"You have your orders," the man spat. "_Comply_."

"…Yes sir."

And with that, Yoru turned, and strode to the door once more.

"Nakamura," the voice came from behind him once again.

Yoru didn't answer. He could not disguise his rage any longer. He simply stopped, and turned his head. The man spoke lowly, with ire hidden in his tone.

"Do not fail me. Your very existence is hanging by a thread."

He clenched his fists, sharp nails digging into his flesh.

_How __**dare**__ you remind me of that, bastard._

"Tsukiyomi Ikuto _will_ be found, Nakamura. Whether it be by you… or by that foolish woman you call your mother."

Without another word, Yoru opened the door and shut it behind him, with great force.

His blood boiled with fury. He walked briskly down the hallway, jaw gritted, stomach clenched, fists tight, eyes glaring;

It was all he could possibly do to keep from turning around and killing the man behind the desk.

_Stupid uncle. _

Too ashamed to call Yoru his nephew – not even to call him by his first name.

Yoru had refused to accept the last name of his own father, simply because it was his stupid uncle's fault that his father left him and his mother to starve. Thus, he went by Yoru Nakamura, carrying on the legacy of his mother, both of them bound and chained to Easter's slave company.

Just the thought of it made his fists clench tighter.

His pace quickened. His fellow co-workers eyed him suspiciously, seemingly in fear of his anger – but he didn't notice them.

After all, he had his orders. He must… _comply_.

He had a mission. He was to find Tsukiyomi Ikuto at all cost.

And he intended to.

But who said the bastard behind the desk had to know? A little secret couldn't hurt anyone.

A small, sadistic smirk came across Yoru's face, and his anger immediately transformed into a twisted pleasure. Only after his anger died down did he unclench his fists, numb to the bone.

He felt a warm, sticky substance trickling down his fingers. He didn't have to guess twice at what it was.

Blood trickled down both palms, emanating from four small puncture wounds on the bottom of both palms, courtesy of his sharp claws. He smirked. He loved blood.

His cousin was playing hide n' seek with him once again – and Yoru knew _exactly_ where he'd chosen to hide.

-0-0-0-0-

_He's __**still**__ not awake yet?_

Amu looked at the clock for the fourth time in an elapsed period of 20 minutes.

Ikuto had been sleeping since she'd gone to the grocery store, which was about five hours ago. Both Kuukai and Nagihiko had come for a visit, separately, and he'd slept right through the noise and ruckus. Even when she'd shrieked by accident as she tripped over Tucker and landed directly on her rear against the hard kitchen tiles, he'd slept like a baby.

A soundless, completely motionless, quite adorable baby.

It was now six o'clock. The autumn sunset was filtering through her windows, casting an orange glow over the darkened apartment room. Ikuto had been sleeping since about one o'clock.

She wondered how much sleep he'd gotten the night before.

He'd apparently been awake long after she'd fallen asleep – awake enough, at least, to carry her into her bedroom – and that was well after at least three o'clock in the morning. Then, when she'd woken up around eleven-thirty, he had just gotten out of the shower.

Amu glanced at him again, still sleeping soundly in the exact same position she'd found him in five hours ago. She folded her slender legs quietly, adorned in black lacy leggings. She wore a long, thin, shrug-like teal sweater, tied loosely at the waist – one that she'd received from a dance class a few years ago. Her thin pink hair was tied up in a high, messy bun, and she brushed the wispy bangs off of her forehead, only to have them rush back to her eyes once more. She brought the mug in her hands to her lips, sipping the steamy fluid gently. The oversized sleeves of her sweater, combined with the warmth of the steamy tea made her constantly frigid hands seem much warmer.

Her eyes were fixed entirely on Ikuto; they had been for the past hour or more.

Amu had been curled up in her large, dark leather chair, as if waiting for something to happen.

To be more specific, she was waiting for Ikuto to _wake_ _up_ already.

She picked up her cell phone from the coffee table for the first time since the day before, when the incident had happened, and rolled her eyes at the obnoxious amount of new texts in her inbox.

Mostly from Yaya Yuiki.

**Yaya: OMG amu im DYING in this place its so boring**

**Yaya: And the disturbing thing is that evry1 but me and rima r enjoying it!**

**Yaya: UGH ITS FINALLY OVER**

**Yaya: WHY WRNT YOU THERE?**

**Yaya: IT WAS SOOOO BORING W/O YOU!**

**Yaya: Ugghh… amu… come on, u have to face him sometime!**

**Yaya: Whatev… i might swing by your place sometime Sunday after studio… be prepared :)**

Amu rolled her eyes again.

Just staring at the screen gave her a headache.

Only Yaya would text during a classical concert.

Yaya Yuiki had been her friend since elementary, although, like Rima, Amu had no idea how the two of them had become such good friends. In elementary, Yaya was one of the most babyish characters Amu had ever seen. It blew her mind. After high school and college, she had become much more mature, but still clung to her immature and childish nature. But when things were serious, Yaya transformed completely to fit her surroundings, something she hadn't been able to cope with as a teenager.

Yaya was a year younger than Amu, and she was spending her last year of college wisely – she was majoring in dance; ballet, specifically, and she was taking lessons at a very prestigious dance studio, which she actually enjoyed, contrary to her childhood tastes. Luckily, the ballet class was still located in Seiyo City, so Yaya could visit her friends freely.

Amu groaned again, her headache worsening.

Yaya was coming to her house tomorrow to lecture her on Ikuto.

Said Ikuto was lounging on her couch, just waiting for someone to go all ninja on _Amu_ because of _him_.

She rubbed her temples angrily.

Ikuto… was _way_ more trouble than he was worth.

She scrolled past the billions of texts from Yaya, muttering angry comments about her crapped-up life, when she finally came upon texts by different people. One was from Utau.

She cringed.

She wondered if Utau was looking for Ikuto, too. No doubt.

**Utau: hey, have you heard? I tried calling u but u wouldnt answer. ikuto's gone and gotten himself missing again. im a little worried. Think u could call me soon? thnx. **

Amu sighed.

She had to tell Utau.

She knew how much Utau cared for her brother. Although she didn't fantasize about him as she had in her childhood days, she still had a soft spot for him, and him alone. She loved him and cared for him, and Amu felt unworthy to have him in her possession.

Amu smacked her head bluntly.

_Possession? In your __**possession**__? _

_Oh, you foolish girl, Amu._

She moved on to the next text, making a mental note to call Utau later.

It was from Tadase.

**Tadase: looks like everyone wants to get together at Starbucks monday to plan the reunion. Need a ride? **

She groaned, suddenly remembering the reunion.

Seiyo Elementary was having a reunion, which was to be conducted by the Guardians, a small childish club that Amu was forced to join in elementary. That's how she became such good friends with Tadase, Kuukai, Nagihiko, Rima, Yaya, and a boy named Sanjou Kairi. They had all been a part of the Guardians at one point or another. Although the club had dissipated as they went into High School, the friends still hung out as if the club still existed.

Now, they had a reunion to plan.

_Oh… joy. _

She rubbed her temples again, slowly. Why was it that headaches always came on when she checked her texts?

The next and final text was from Nagihiko.

**Nagi: So how are you now? Everything going okay? Did Tsukiyomi wake up yet? Just checking up on you. Im always there for you, remember? =)**

She smiled.

The text had been sent five minutes after he'd left her apartment.

She took a glance at the flowers in her kitchen, glowing in the autumn sunset filtering through her windows. She couldn't imagine what her life would've been like without Nagihiko Fujisaki as a friend.

A cold chill ran through Amu's body, causing her to shiver slightly. Even with a hot cup of tea and a cottony sweater, Amu's feet were usually what caused her body's temperature.

Her feet were freezing cold. This was never a good sign.

She reluctantly stood from her comfortable and temporarily warm position in the chair, stretched, and began walking over to the thermostat on the wall by the front door. She glanced at Ikuto along the way, and stopped when he finally shifted his position. His eyebrows creased, almost as if he was pained; his wounds were most likely hurting him. He turned his head, and shifted his arms.

Amu waited with anticipation for him to open his eyes, but he simply squinted them, and continued sleeping.

She rolled her eyes.

_Lazy cat. _

Although, that was the first time Amu had seen him shift his position since he'd fallen asleep. Perhaps he was having a dream.

Even a nightmare.

_Was that even possible for someone like Ikuto? _

_Doubtfully_.

Amu finally arrived at the thermostat, and cringed. 72 degrees? Much, much too cold.

She turned it up two degrees, and snickered. In a few minutes, Kuukai would bang on his ceiling, sending her a message.

One bang – "come down, I need to talk to you."

Two bangs – "I just got the bills; come down and pay me."

Three bangs – "Turn down the heat."

She smiled to herself. Frequently, the flat-mates had a war over air-conditioning – Kuukai was rarely home during the day, but when he was, it was just after some sort of exercise ritual. He liked things cold, even during autumn and winter. Amu, however, liked things warm and toasty at all times, even after an occasional trip to the downtown gym. It was like college all over again – except that Amu and Kuukai were the only ones in the dorm.

Although the two didn't always get along so swimmingly, Amu would have no other man for her apartment-mate.

She heard a noise behind her, a sort of brushing noise. She turned around, and peered over the edge of the couch. Ikuto's face was no longer serene in his deep sleep.

His brow was wrinkled, and his jaw was taut. His body was now stiff and rigid, and his fingers twitched as if they were awake, but his mind was not responding.

Amu stared at him, baffled.

_Is it possible? _

_Is Tsukiyomi Ikuto having a… nightmare?_

He suddenly clutched his arm, nearly directly where he'd been shot. His face looked so pained – like he was in anguish and agony.

Amu wanted so badly to reach out and touch him.

She wanted to comfort him. She wanted to hold him in her arms and whisper in his ear that everything was alright. But more than anything, she wanted to know what he was so afraid of.

Just what could Ikuto Tsukiyomi, master of façades, possibly have nightmares of?

Suddenly, Ikuto shot up, breathing heavily.

Amu's heart stopped. She clutched her chest tightly, where her breath had disappeared. She looked intently at Ikuto's face.

For fleeting moments, he looked shocked beyond belief… almost scared?

"Are you… are you okay? God, you scared me half to death…" Amu breathed, still clutching her fluttering stomach tightly.

He looked up at her, breathing normally, and returning back to his expressionless face. He ran a hand through his hair, and tried his best to look indifferent.

"…I had a weird dream," he said bluntly.

She too, ran a hand through her hair, in flustered frustration.

"Don't scare me like that," she said, shifty-eyed.

She walked over to the kitchen, cold feet sliding against the kitchen tiles.

"You must be hungry," she said, in a much softer tone. "I made you a sandwich."

She pulled the small plate out of the refrigerator, and placed it on the counter, shutting the fridge door with her foot. She pulled a cup out of her cabinet, and filled it with cold water. The room was silent – Ikuto was busy trying his muscles; twisting his torso and rotating his injured arm, while Amu was bringing out his food to the living room. Just when she set it on the table, Ikuto said,

"Do you frequently watch people when they sleep?"

She looked at him incredulously.

"W-what?"

"That's a bad habit, Amu," he said casually. She could _hear_ the smirk in his tone.

"I do _not_ watch people sleep," she snapped, trying her hardest to hide her blush. "Call me strange, but when someone gets shot, I tend to worry about them a _little _bit."

Ikuto kept silent after she said it, keeping his eyes trained on the sandwich. Amu followed his gaze, and rolled her eyes.

"Feel free to eat it whenever you please. I was simply trying to keep you from starving to death," she said sarcastically.

To her surprise, he simply let out a devious smirk, and said nothing.

By this time, she would've expected some sort of devilish comment, perverted in some way or another. But he simply kept silent.

Amu assumed her usual position on the edge of the coffee table, and looked at him expectantly.

"So? How do you feel?"

"Fine."

She rolled her eyes.

"That's what you said after you got shot. Dummy," she sighed.

He shrugged, and looked at the floor. She sighed at his obliviousness, and looked at him.

"Take off your shirt."

His eyes shot her direction, and a just barely noticeable smirk came across his face as he looked the other way.

"I didn't think you were like that, Amu."

She paused, thinking.

Then it hit her.

"Why y – ugh, you idiot! Grow up!" she yelled, flustered.

He smirked, and even let out a little chuckle.

Amu watched him with glaring daggers as he slipped his black shirt over his head, and tossed it on her hardwood living room floor. She examined his wounds thoroughly, all the while thinking of just how much of an idiot he was.

But as much as he teased her, and as much as she hated it…

She had to admit, it was a little nice to see him back to his old self.

She had missed his devious smirk. She had missed his perverted teasing. She had even, the slightest bit, missed the blush that floated across her cheeks when he'd make her mind wander.

But she **refused** to let _him_ see that.

"I got a message from Utau today," Amu said, diverting from the silent subject. "She says she's worried."

Ikuto said nothing – he didn't even flinch. Amu was hesitant, but she boldly confronted the mystery that had been on her mind since he'd appeared.

"Couldn't you get better care with her? With the people who care for you?"

Her voice was quiet, and she almost didn't want to continue. But her curiosity got the best of her.

She didn't understand him. Why would he be wasting his time with me, when he's got such a famous, prosperous future ahead of him?

_Just what was keeping him here?_

"Why are you still here… when there's so much more for you out there?"

Her voice was uncontrollably shaky, and she didn't know why. Something about it all made a deep emotion swell up within her, and she didn't know what it was. But it was strong – stronger than she was able to handle.

_What is wrong with you, Amu?_

She'd had so many dreams as a kid, and she'd wished to fulfill them all, one by one. She didn't care about college and money. She just wanted to become a singer. Become a dancer. Become an author. Become a painter. Become a chef. Become a pâtissier.

But then it hit her, like a bolt of lightning.

Reality.

Everything all came crashing down in one fleeting moment, and every dream she'd ever held so tightly just disappeared. Somewhere along the road, dreams and reality collided, and reality won.

16 was when her dreaming had ended, and 16 was where her dreams would stay.

_You're 21 now, Amu._

_Grow up. _

She shook her head and smirked, brushing it off.

She stood up and walked into the kitchen, noticing how dark it had become within the past few moments. The sunset was almost completely gone now, and the apartment was dark and almost completely shadowed. Feeling useless, she began washing the dishes in the sink by hand.

She sighed lightly, relieving the air of some of the tension that she had exerted with her harsh tone a few moments ago. Doing something with her hands put her at peace, and her strong emotion slowly died down.

"I just don't understand you people," she said, contemptuous, but still soft. "You have everything in your wildest dreams right at your fingertips, yet you blow it all on something so trivial. I'd do anything to be in your position."

Ikuto was still silent. Amu was facing away from him, and despite the strong urge to turn around, and to see what his expression looked like, she refused to give in to the pressure.

_Was he doing this on purpose? Keeping quiet in order to make you feel guilty?_

Suddenly, she was yanked out of her thought when she felt firm hands on both shoulders. She turned her head, but was nearly prohibited by a face right next to hers.

"I-Ikuto –"

"I'd think saving your life is a little more than _trivial_. Don't you think, _Amu_?"

His sparkling indigo eyes bore directly into hers, taking her aback. The handsome smirk was plastered all over his gaze, and try as she might, Amu couldn't pull herself away.

She'd forgotten how exhilarating it felt to be this close to him.

His nose nearly touched the tip of hers, and his warm breath tingled on her face. She could almost feel the sensation of what it would feel like his face pressed to hers. And his smell...

He suddenly backed away, setting his empty plate and glass on the counter.

Amu, however, was much too dazed to notice.

She didn't even have the sensibility left to mentally scold herself, or even to scream at her mind to snap out of it. She was completely lost in thought. She turned her dizzy gaze to Ikuto, leaning against her counter, staring at the floor. His voice was low and soft.

"I guess my fingertips couldn't quite reach everything _beyond_ my wildest dreams."

And at that moment, Amu saw a glimmer of the man she'd grown to love in his expressionless eyes. That was the moment that the stillness in Amu's life was shaken from its slumber.

And for that one fleeting moment, she felt like dancing. She felt like painting. She felt like cooking.

Had she finally found her lost dreams?

She smiled.

Perhaps.

But she knew now that one dream was never lost at all; and that dream stood before her, embodied in tainted, bruised flesh and a clever smirk.

* * *

_(A/N) - i tried to make it sound philosophical. _

_...f__ail. _

_okay, review time! kudos to the person who writes the heartiest review :D_


	9. Nothing and Everything

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 8

* * *

Amu had awakened Sunday morning with a bizarre spectrum of emotions.

A major feeling of sleep-deprivation, with a slight dash of strange refreshment, mixed together to create some sort of lethargic dizziness.

She hadn't gotten any sleep _whatsoever_ the night before – it was if her mind was jumbled and clouded with thoughts just standing in a line, waiting impatiently to be thought of. She'd get up, pace around her room, pace into the kitchen, and pace back, not daring to take a glance at Ikuto, in fear that he would be awake. Her mind had felt as if it was about to explode with a dangerous overload of thought.

But not anymore. Now, it was as if her mind was completely void of thought.

Furthermore, she didn't have the energy to even _try_ to think.

As of yesterday, her body's minimum energy was completely, totally and wholesomely sucked dry. As of that very moment, she was nearly burning the eggs that she was trying to cook. Her eyelids kept sliding down momentarily, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She just barely felt alive. Then, some sort of disturbing noise or interruption would snap her out of her sleepy daze.

She admitted it. Caring for Ikuto was more than her little world could handle.

Nevertheless, she did everything she could – after all, he'd saved her life.

…Oh, dear God, that excuse was getting _**so**_ old.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she said dryly, as Ikuto came walking slowly out of her bedroom.

Once again, his hair was wet with water droplets, luckily caught by the towel slung around his neck. He wore the same thin, black jeans that he'd worn at his concert. His fair, muscular chest was shirtless, tainted with gruesome bruises and hideous gunshot holes by his shoulder and near his waist.

Amu cringed visibly every time she saw his chest; it was a horrible reminder of how much pain he'd endured to keep her safe.

"How did you sleep?" She questioned absent-mindedly, sliding the eggs around in the hot pan.

She didn't really have any idea what she was saying – at times like these, she trusted her sensible judgment to create sentences for her. But as tired as she was, she questioned just how sensible that judgment was.

"Hn," a voice suddenly blew into her ear. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Suddenly, Amu's dead nerves sprang to life.

She snapped out of her trance with a start, and her hand impulsively shot to her tingling ear.

She heard a low snicker resound behind her, and she whirled around to glare at the perverted cat-man leaning against her kitchen counter.

"You idiot." She growled.

He hadn't changed. Not one bit.

"You haven't changed."

Amu froze, and whirled around, dumbfounded. That wasn't her voice.

She groaned. _And he reads minds. Oh, dear Lord, what have I done wrong? _

Ikuto was still smirking, sending her a rigorous, mischievous stare with his cobalt indigo eyes, and speaking in a low, clear voice that shot chills up her spine.

"You still have those sensitive ears, don't you, _Amu_?"

The way he said her name…

The way he stared into her eyes…

The way his smirk increased little by little…

The way her cheeks heated conspicuously…

Everything felt like such a déjà vu. A bad one.

Amu whirled around once more, just in time to save the omelet in the pan from burning. She convinced herself as hard as she could that the hot burners on the stove were to blame for the heat on her cheeks.

"You haven't changed either, pervert," she muttered, trying her best to sound indifferent.

He let out an amused chuckle.

"Touché."

Amu's morning had been officially turned around.

Her head was filled with every thought imaginable: irrelevant things, frightening things, hilarious things, even – she shuddered – naughty things.

But overall, one simple thought seemed to constantly reoccur; seemed to stand out.

Ikuto… was back.

The Ikuto she'd fallen in love with so many years ago was back in her life once more. And she may have been wrong, but her life seemed hold just a little more joy than it had before.

Either that, or her life held a lot more dread.

Amu brushed off every thought, and finished cooking to complete the breakfast for two – scrambled eggs, microwaved bacon, and her personal favorite, strawberries. She didn't know why she loved them so much, but part of it was because people often associated her to a strawberry simply because of her bright, vibrant pink hair.

Some people, at one point, even called her "my little strawberry"…

She shook her head, and continued on.

She placed each food on a plate in a haphazard fashion, and practically shoved it at Ikuto's chest.

"Here. Eat it." She ordered bluntly.

Ikuto smirked at her, and obeyed.

Amu proceeded to create her own plate, slightly thrilled about the idea of a big, fancy breakfast (if it could be called that). It was 10:06 a.m., and she applauded herself for waking up so early on a Sunday morning, but at the same time, she mourned the sleep she could have forced herself to gain if she'd slept in. Nevertheless, the thought of a healthy breakfast consisting of more than cereal excited her.

When her plate was complete, she turned around to get a fork from the silverware drawer, only to find a large bundle of man blocking her way. Amu glared at Ikuto. He simply waited patiently, an amused smirk on his smug face and mischievousness dancing in his navy blue eyes.

"Move," she finally growled reluctantly.

"Make me."

"You're injured. You don't want me to." She retorted with a smug smirk of her own.

When he looked down on her with a smirk of defiance, and still would not budge, she sighed, as if she was giving in – but this war was far from over. She simply sidestepped, and moved tactfully behind him, tightly sandwiching herself between the island and Ikuto's back. She felt awkwardly nervous pressed up against his back – she'd missed the times she'd been pressed to him so closely. It was only then that she noted how firm his back muscles felt against hers – however, she was extremely careful not to touch her own gluteus maximus to his, making it even more uncomfortable.

She huffed in frustration.

_Amu… you moron. This would have been a whole lot easier if you'd just shoved him._

_Maybe even said… please__. _

She shuddered at the thought.

Never… _ever_ again would she beg for this oversized idiot of a kitty.

Just the thought of it made her blood boil.

"Ikuto," she said through clenched teeth, trying her best to sound sweet.

"Yes, Amu?" He questioned innocently.

"**Move**."

"As you wish," he sighed.

Suddenly, Amu felt his backside press against hers even further, and his arms drifted behind him and clutched the island, completely cornering her between a rock – a very stubborn, stupid cat-rock – and a hard place.

"I-Ikuto…!"

She cringed. Try as she may, she could not prevent her tiny, firm butt cheeks from touching his. Their bodies were perfectly aligned; like two pieces of the same very confusing puzzle. She huffed in frustration, and in very thorough embarrassment. All she wanted… was a fork. Now look what she got – an Ikuto, Amu, and countertop sandwich.

She could only fume with frustration at what Ikuto's expression was most likely like at that moment – with that stupid cat-like grin all over his smug face. Sometimes she just wanted to smack it off.

She took in a deep breath, calming her nerves.

She took another one.

And another.

Oh, how Ikuto's smell did wonders to her nerves.

_No, Amu! He is the enemy! __Think!_

"Ikuto…" She said sweetly, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Hmm?" He muttered, probably stuffing his face with _her_ breakfast.

She clenched her teeth.

"I'm going to need a fork. From this drawer. Which I am blocking."

"Then don't block it."

It took everything within her not to blow up in his smug, sarcastic face.

"Would you just move, idiot?" She snapped, her tone rising.

"No."

She was about to smash her fist against his arm, but she remembered – he's injured. _Damn those stupid injuries._

She would've used all her strength to push against him, but…

1) He was strong. Stronger than Amu.

2) He was injured. Freaking _shot_.

She sighed, suddenly calming down. There was one solution to this problem, and as much as she hated to do it, she knew it had to be done, because _somebody_ couldn't handle being bossed around.

_Ugh! He's _so_ childish! _

Her cheeks blushed a deep scarlet. She clenched her fists, and mustered up every strength left in her body. She was going to need it.

"Please move…" She hesitated, then muttered barely audibly, "…Ikuto-_koi_."

Amu wanted to slap herself. She couldn't believe she'd actually said it. She couldn't believe she was back to being treated like a child again.

Nevertheless, she felt the pressure being lifted from her back, and his arms lifted from the counter. But somehow, she felt no relief whatsoever.

Long, lean, muscular arms wrapped around her neck loosely, and she tried to pay them no attention – but it was somewhat hard to when Ikuto's bare chest was pressed up against her back. She blushed at the contact. His smell wafted through her nostrils as she breathed deep; she had nearly forgotten how dizzy it made her feel.

_Ugh… stupid Amu._

She rolled her eyes, and opened the silverware drawer casually, pulling out a fork.

"As you wish, _Amu_."

"Moron," she seethed, slipping out of his arms, trying to hide her blush.

It was amazing to her how he hadn't changed at all in the years she'd known him; even in the years she'd been separated from him. When he'd first set foot into her apartment, he was quiet and withdrawn – now, he was just as obnoxious and flirtatious as he had been, as if nothing ever happened.

But it had been five years since she'd last seen him. He didn't call, he didn't write, he didn't text. And suddenly, five years later, he appears randomly and takes two bullets for her.

Contrary to his belief, Amu was not as vulnerable as she once was. Unlike him, she couldn't, and wouldn't act like nothing had happened.

"I see you're doing better today," she said bluntly, keeping her eyes on her food.

Ikuto said nothing.

Amu finally obtained the guts to look up at him. His face was stone solid once more, staring at his plate.

_God, is he bipolar or what?_

But she was beginning to see a pattern in his behavior. Every time Amu would mention something of his injuries, or something of Friday night, he would clam up and keep silent.

Interesting behavior.

Not that she blamed him.

"I'll put new bandages on when I'm done," she said, bringing a bite of her omelet to her mouth.

He still said nothing – he simply held up a strawberry to his vision, gave Amu a quizzical smile, and bit into it slowly. Amu watched him intently for a moment, seeing his pleasant, dazed expression, and wondering if he was reminiscing the same memory that she was.

_Impossible_, she scoffed. _There's no way he'd remember_.

And with that, she bit into her strawberry, savoring every bit of sweetly sour juice as she chewed slowly and daintily.

Ikuto stared at her silently, inconspicuously, as if waiting patiently for her to turn his way. He stared at her expression as she ate the red, ripe strawberry, and a small, barely noticeable smirk crossed his lips.

* * *

"_Look, Ikuto! Strawberries!" She sat up quickly._

"_What?"_

_She pouted._

"_Strawberries! Don't you see them?"  
He sat up, and looked where she pointed._

"_Oh, yeah."_

"_Can we pick some?"_

_He looked at her quizzically. _

"_Why?"_

"_Because."  
"No."_

"_Why not?"_

_He smirked._

"_Because."_

_She touched his cheek, and moved closer to his face, smirking and whispering lowly in his ear. _

"…_Please?"_

_She gave his jawbone a teasing lick with the tip of her tongue._

_He groaned in irritation. He was too weak. And she was much too enticing. _

"_Fine." He gave in._

_She giggled, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running happily across the field to the patch of red._

_He couldn't help but smile._

_She was still so innocent._

* * *

Ikuto's smirk widened. He stared at her with narrow eyes, twinkling with a devious gleam.

Finally, Amu shot him an angry glare.

"Are you gonna stop staring at me or what?" She said harshly, squeaking accidentally.

Her wide golden eyes flared with an innocent embarrassment, disguising itself as anger.

Ikuto simply grinned.

"As you wish."

-0-0-0-0-0-

Nagihiko Fujisaki closed his book at the vibrating ring of his cell phone. He smiled at the name spread across the front of the screen.

"Hello?" He said gently as he flipped his phone open.

"Fujisaki." A high-pitched voice said monotonously.

"Hello, Rima. It's been a while."

"It's been two days," she replied curtly.

Nagihiko laughed good-naturedly, trying to hide his nervousness. Despite Mashiro Rima's tendency to become jealous of the time Nagihiko spent with her best friend, Amu, he knew that she had a heart beneath her prim exterior.

"I guess time flies, eh?" He chuckled. "Is there something you needed, Rima?"

"Yes, Fujisaki, as matter of fact, there is," she snapped fluidly. "Is there a reason why Amu is not answering her phone?"

Nagihiko was somewhat taken aback by the quick, hostile manner with which she asked the question. He didn't quite know what to say.

"Umm… perhaps it's uncharged?" He offered meekly. "Did you try her house phone?"

"Yes, I tried her house phone," she spat.

He cringed. Her tone was not at all friendly.

He knew the reason Amu wasn't answering her phone. It was most likely because of Tsukiyomi.

But he couldn't find the nerve to tell that to Rima.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Rima. Perhaps she went out and forgot her cell phone. I'm sure she'll call you back."

"Yes, well… thank you for your time, Fujisaki." She said his name like it was venom.

"Rima?" He said quickly.

She responded within a few moments, most likely after attempting to hang up her phone.

"Yes?"

Nagihiko hesitated, unsure of exactly why he'd beckoned her once more. He quickly said gently,

"How have you been?"

She seemed hesitant to answer. After a few moments, she said,

"F-fine. I've… been better. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm just curious," he said, smiling. "I enjoy talking to you."

At that, Rima seemed to silence momentarily. Nagihiko seized the opportunity.

"So how is your job going?"

And for the next few moments, Nagihiko Fujisaki and Rima Mashiro's worlds collided briefly. It was a once-in-a-lifetime happenstance, because the two were always separated by a thin wall – a thin, pink-haired wall named Hinamori Amu. It seemed that one friendly comment had called off Rima's stiff guard, and the two talked fairly comfortably, with Nagihiko in charge of the questions. Despite everything between them, they seemed to have a lot in common when they spoke.

Suddenly, Nagihiko heard a conspicuous beep interrupt his conversation. He looked at the phone's screen – Tadase.

_Oh, no…_

At the moment, he didn't know how he would handle speaking with Tadase. He was already hiding Amu's secret from one friend, and that alone was difficult. But he felt that she would find out from Amu herself.

But Tadase?

He could only imagine the expression on his face when he found out somehow.

"Rima?" Nagihiko said softly.

"Yes?"

"I have someone on the other line. Can I talk to you later?"

"Sorry, I'll be out."

Suddenly, Rima sounded withdrawn and stiff. Nagihiko cringed. And for some reason, he resented ever telling her of Tadase's call.

"…Alright," he sighed. "I'll see you at Starbucks tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, I suppose," she said bleakly.

"Alright. Goodbye, Rima. It was nice talking to you."

"Goodbye, Fujisaki."

And then the line went dead. Nagihiko sighed, and pressed the green talk button once more.

"Hello?" He said with unconscious despair.

"Nagihiko?" Tadase said, a tone of worry in his voice. "Is that you?"

"Why, yes, Tadase, who else?" He said, decidedly more cheerful.

"Oh, sorry," Tadase laughed warily. "You sounded different."

And to Nagihiko's relief, the next few moments of conversation with his good friend Hotori Tadase were spent planning out the Guardian's get-together at Starbucks the following day. Not a word of Hinamori Amu was spoken, aside from an occasional word of making a head-count.

When Tadase finally hung up, Nagihiko felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

He felt like a liar, which was something he was never known to be. He felt like he was betraying his best friends, which was something he was highly against.

But then, when he thought of Amu… when he thought of the beautiful smile on her face when he'd held her hands and comforted her…

He somehow felt like he was doing the right thing.

He ran a hand through his hair, and put down his cell phone on the counter. He felt a unique heaviness in his heart; the exact same feeling that had been present in his chest ever since he'd found Tsukiyomi Ikuto in Amu's apartment. He felt a horrible ache in his stomach in knowing that he was one of the only ones that knew.

And for fleeting moments, he wished that he was still conversing pleasantly and carefree with Mashiro Rima.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Amu saw her phone on the counter vibrate, and felt a twinge of guilt within her stomach. She hadn't answered or even looked at her phone all day long. She'd received at least four calls within the past hour – most likely from the same person – but still sat glued to her position on her favorite leather chair, reading and proofreading next month's unfinished issue of Kyoko Magazine, and keeping an eye on Ikuto as he slept on the couch.

_Keeping an eye_ on him.

_Not_ watching him sleep.

For some strange reason, she finally found the strength within her to crawl out of the depths of her comfort and pick up the phone on the counter.

As she'd expected – five missed calls, 1 text. The text was recent; about half-an-hour ago.

It was from Yaya.

**Yaya: im at the studio right now, but i should be at your place in a few. just wanted to drop in, see whats hapnin with my girlie =) **

Amu froze.

_Oh…_

_Oh no. _

She scrambled over to the couch, where Ikuto slept serenely, and tapped his shoulder incessantly.

"Ikuto!" She whispered harshly. "Ik-u-to!"

He simply moaned sleepily, threw an arm over his eyes, and continued ignoring her.

She groaned.

_This can't happen! Yaya is coming over to my house in a total of about two seconds and I have a suspicious, sleeping, sexy man on my couch!_

_Wait, what?_

_Get a hold of your thoughts, Amu. _

"Ikuto, you have to wake up! Yaya is coming over like… _right_ _now_! You can't be seen!"

She continued calling his name, and shoving him softly, trying her hardest not to disturb his wounds. When he wouldn't budge, Amu felt desperate. She looked around, dancing on her feet like she was about to have an unpleasant accident.

Finally, without a further thought in her mind, she bent over, and placed Ikuto's arms around her shoulders. She stood up, carrying a limp, puppet-like Ikuto along with her. She coaxed his legs into functioning, slightly helping her effort of dragging him into her bedroom.

Amu clung tightly to his hands around her neck, and began dragging his limp, sleeping form across the wood floor.

"Oh, God…" she groaned. "You're… heavy…"

She grunted and groaned in agony, trying her hardest to keep him supported around her neck, when suddenly, she heard the screech of the bus in front of her apartment.

No doubt Yaya was on it.

She felt a sudden surge of panic, thus propelling her to pull him like she'd never pulled before. She finally managed to get him into her room, and luckily, her bed was not far from the door. She took a few steps more, and tactfully, she slipped Ikuto's arms from around her neck, and twisted her body backwards, letting Ikuto's sleeping body do the rest. He fell, draped across her black satin queen sized bed, still sleeping like a baby.

She huffed in exhaustion.

"You're telling me _I'm_ heavier than I look," she muttered.

Suddenly, she heard her front door open.

"Amu-chi!" A shrill voice exploded happily in her kitchen.

In one expert move, Amu slid out of her bedroom and shut the door behind her, smiling brightly.

"Yaya," she laughed. "You caught me by surprise."

"Exactly!" She squealed, dashing across the apartment and giving Amu a long, suffocating hug. "Surprises are so much better than planned visits, aren't they?"

_Never..._

"H-how have you been?" Amu tried to conceal her flustered behavior. "You act like we haven't seen each other in years."

Yaya broke away from her and hung on her shoulders, her chestnut brown eyes wide and animated with sorrow.

"Yeah, but that's what it feels like! I was all bummed out that you didn't show up at the concert the other day!"

Amu smiled with sympathy, waves of relief washing over her inwardly. For once, she was oh-so-glad that Yaya was so oblivious. Unless for some reason Yaya wanted to see Amu's room, her secret of Tsukiyomi Ikuto should be safe.

"Yeah, well…" Amu chuckled nervously. "I wasn't feeling too hot, and besides! I never liked the violin."

"I know, I know…" Yaya let go of her, and danced around her kitchen, setting her tote and ballet slippers on her counter. "But all throughout the concert, I was beating myself up about how you were all alone, while we ditched you to go watch the concert of the man you…"

She stopped, and shot Amu an apologetic glance. Amu nodded, smiling.

"It's okay, I understand. Really, I was completely fine the other night."

Yaya stood on her toes, unconsciously doing ballet warm-ups while chewing her pinky – something she always did when she felt guilty. Amu rolled her eyes, and punched her in the shoulder softly, striding into the kitchen to lean against the counter.

"So what, did you come and visit me on a guilt trip?" She chuckled good-naturedly.

Yaya finally smiled, and giggled brightly.

"No, no, I just wanted to – ooh, pretty! Who are these from?" She trailed off, fingering the calla lilies and lilacs on the counter.

Amu stuttered for a moment, slightly surprised at the question.

"N-Nagi," she said, unconsciously stuttering.

"N-Nagi, eh?" Yaya repeated, shooting her a devious stare with a gleam in her eye.

"Yes, Nagi. He came by because Kuukai told him I was sick… for some reason." Amu conjured expertly. Clearly the stutter was her downfall.

"Oh, did he…?"

Yaya fingered the flower petals with her dainty, poised fingertips, and looked at Amu with a familiar twinkle in her bronze chestnut eyes. She snickered quietly, and simply kept silent.

Amu rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, Yaya…"

"Oh, Amu…" She repeated in a ditzy high-pitched voice.

"I know what you're thinking. And 'no'."

"_No_, Nagi is _not_ madly in love with you?"

"NO!" Amu laughed, slightly aggravated.

"I think he has the right to decide that for himself, don't you?" Yaya said cleverly.

"No, I don't, because he's not." Amu declared firmly, still smirking. "We're just friends."

"That's what they all say…" Yaya muttered with a curl on her lips.

"_**Yaya**_…"

"Okay, okay!" She laughed. "No more Nagi thoughts for the rest of the day!"

The two friends laughed it off, and continued chatting about life, work, home – everything under the sun that they needed so desperately to catch up on. With the ballet class that Yaya attended faithfully every day until evening, and the hardworking job that Amu had on weekdays, the two friends rarely got the opportunity to speak on the phone, much less face-to-face. Times like these were priceless; something that they both cherished and loved, no matter how contrasting their personalities may have been.

And for fleeting moments, Amu nearly forgot about Ikuto and the troubles she faced.

The two women lost track of time; somehow, in the depth of their conversation, time had moved quickly and it had gotten to be 8:00. Yaya said her farewells, claiming that she and her little brother Tsubasa had yet to eat dinner, and he was probably starving by now. Only then did Amu remember Ikuto and how hungry he must be.

_Coincidental how an annoying little brother could remind me of him_, Amu thought dryly.

"Plus, I wanna pay a quick visit to Kuukai if he's home," Yaya winked.

Amu smiled.

Recently, Yaya had been telling her of this strange feeling she gets in her stomach when she's around Kuukai. She had no idea what it was. She'd never had it before.

Amu just listened and smiled.

She didn't say anything having to do with love. Yaya still clung to a bit of her adolescent childish behavior, and until she let that go, she wouldn't fully understand the meaning of love. Amu wanted her to find it out herself, so she just went along with Yaya's thoroughly confused behavior. But inwardly, she knew she would find out soon.

Amu said goodbye, and Yaya giggled playfully as she slipped outside of her apartment room.

Amu breathed a heavy sigh, and eagerly, perhaps a bit _too_ eagerly, she glided across her apartment and flung open the door to her bedroom, peering inside.

Ikuto sat up on her bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily at the sudden flood of light into his sleepy world.

Amu smirked, and leaned against the doorway, folding her arms across her chest.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. Your public awaits."

He simply yawned, and stretched obnoxiously across her bed.

She cringed. He was… soiling it.

But at the same time, she couldn't possibly imagine herself falling asleep tonight, knowing that Ikuto had slept on her bed.

A good feeling? Or a bad one? She hardly knew.

Suddenly, she heard another knock at her door, and moments after, a buzz in her pocket.

"My, aren't we the popular ones today," Ikuto smirked deviously, before falling back into the depths of her black silk sheets.

She rolled her eyes, and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, while simultaneously walking out of her bedroom and towards the front door.

Who was it now?

None of her friends knock and wait for her to answer the door – except Tadase, out of politeness.

She looked at the text message.

Yaya again?

**Yaya: hun, theres this suspicious hot guy in your flat! i opened the door to leave after visiting kai and he was coming in… i didn't know what else to do so i let him in! but ive never seen him b4… u might wanna be careful i think hes coming up to your aprtment! **

Amu stared at the screen.

She felt a sudden surge of panic in her stomach.

The first thing that came to her mind was one of those thugs on the street.

_They're back._

Another knock.

She didn't know what to do.

"Ikuto…!" She whispered harshly.

She heard nothing from her room. Was he asleep _again_?

_Dammit! Just when she needed him!_

"I-Ikuto…" she whimpered softly.

Her knees were knocking, and her hands were shaking. Should she open the door?

She didn't know if she was just being paranoid or cautious. What if someone had come to get Ikuto? He shouldn't be seen. But she wanted to badly for his comfort and protection.

Amu slapped her own wrist.

_Snap out of it, Amu! __Do it yourself!_

_Be_ _brave!_

Suddenly, she found her hand on the doorknob. She breathed in sharply.

_Be brave. _

The door flew open, and she looked in the hall. There, before her eyes, stood a man.

Amu thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

She blinked once. Twice.

Dark indigo hair. Pale, luminous skin.

Then, she raised a brow incredulously. Vibrant, bronze-yellow eyes?

Amu tried to speak, but couldn't. Why did he look so much like…

Like Ikuto?

The man grinned, sending chills up her spine.

"Hello, Hinamori Amu."

* * *

_(A/N) - dun-dun-dunnnnn_

_oh no. looks like somebody's paying Amu a wittle visit. _

_review! the next chapter cometh! _


	10. Pieces

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 9

* * *

"Hello_, Hinamori Amu_."

The man in the door flashed a sinister grin.

Amu looked at the man incredulously.

She didn't know this man.

So how did he know her?

Suddenly, as soon as he'd uttered the words, Amu felt a firm jerk on her shoulder, wrenching her several paces back. She let out a muted cry, toppling back unsteadily, but felt another hand on her back to steady her.

Before Amu could even comprehend what was going on, Ikuto stood directly before her, his broad back spread before her. His tense arm was poised steadily in the air, guarding her.

Amu was stunned. She didn't know what to think.

There, at her door, was a man who looked freakishly similar to Ikuto, staring her down with menacing, gleaming yellow eyes.

Ikuto had appeared out of nowhere, forcing her behind him and protectively setting an arm before her. His shoulders were tense and his jaw clenched.

Amu stared with wonder at his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Ikuto's eyes looked entirely – and almost frighteningly – dark. Intense. _Angry_. She could nearly feel the ominous aura directed at the man in the doorway.

She took a long, hard glance at the man, slightly fearful of the way Ikuto was acting towards him.

_Did he know this man? __Was this man… bad?_

Suddenly, the man's smirk broadened into a sinister widespread grin. His menacing eyes shone intensely, glowing with a spine-chilling topaz light.

"So, you're still this protective over her, are you, Ikuto?"

"**Leave**." Ikuto suddenly growled.

Amu jumped.

Ikuto's voice sounded tense and vicious. She hardly recognized it as his.

Amu was beginning to feel weak in her knees. She was beginning to get scared.

_How did this man know who Ikuto was? __How did he know who _Amu _was?_

He knew her name. Her full name.

And he was looking her over, up and down, as if he was surveying her as a prize or something.

She felt a twinge of fear in the pit of her stomach. Unconsciously, she sidestepped further behind Ikuto. Somehow, her hand drifted upward, clinging to Ikuto's arm tightly, supporting her weak knees.

"How does he know your name?" She whispered, her voice quivering. "How does he know _my_ name…?"

"Those are good questions, lady. And I can answer them –"

"Get the _hell _out of here," Ikuto growled.

Amu jumped; her other hand sprung to Ikuto's arm, clutching tightly. Now she was scared beyond belief. His voice had never sounded so hateful. _Why was Ikuto acting this way?_

The man in the doorway raised his eyebrows at the outburst, and suddenly, he let out a sigh, smirking.

"Fine, fine," he sighed.

And with that, he stepped back, and took a step down the hall.

"How many did you send…?" Ikuto's gravelly, angry voice resounded from his still figure.

The man in the hall stopped, and twitched his head towards the door.

Amu looked up at Ikuto's face. She'd never seen Ikuto this way before. Never. He'd always seemed so casual and composed, hiding his true feelings from the world.

Now, his muscles were tight and clenched, his eyes were menacing and threatening, and he spread his arms out before Amu protectively. His dark midnight eyes glowed with an intense fire; narrowed, yet wide and vicious. The vein in his neck protruded, thumping with every pump of adrenaline that flowed through his blood. His face was taut and angry – almost as if he was afraid.

She could've been mistaken, but she could've sworn she saw his lip tremble.

Her back arched sharply. Just the thought sent a cold shiver up her spine. _What was he afraid of? Should I be afraid of this man?_

The man in the hall smirked widely, and faced the two once more, leaning his shorter, muscular frame against the doorway.

"None," he enunciated with a smirk.

Ikuto's shoulders shook, face shadowed with his indigo bangs. His arm was still stationed protectively before Amu, and his eyes were still dark and livid – but a twisted grin spread slowly across his face. He looked on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"Of course you did," he laughed sadistically.

Amu shivered, staring up at Ikuto, trying to break through to him somehow.

Ikuto was not himself. It scared her.

"I suppose you won't believe me without proof…" The man sighed, running a hand through his unruly indigo hair.

He hesitated, training his eyes on the kitchen counter momentarily, as if thinking deeply. Finally, he suddenly flashed Amu a handsome smile.

"I knocked, didn't I?" He winked.

And just then, he didn't seem so menacing to Amu after all.

Ikuto's expression hadn't changed since the moment the man had arrived. Angry, livid, and dark, filled with angst and nervousness. There was a still silence in the room, and Amu couldn't take it anymore. She wanted answers; she wanted them _now_.

"Who is he?" she whispered so that only Ikuto could hear.

He slowly, robotically turned his head, and looked at her, dramatically softening his gaze.

For fleeting moments, as he looked into Amu's eyes, she could have sworn she saw a hint of worry and…

Fear?

"Ah, sorry," the man at the door interrupted their gaze. He looked at Amu apologetically. "I guess I didn't introduce myself or any o' that junk, did I? I'm Yoru. Yoru Nakamura."

Amu peered out from behind Ikuto a little, staring at the man nervously. She still didn't know what to think. Ikuto's behavior had shaken her quite a bit. But despite his behavior, Amu's good judgment found no fault in this man.

She stepped out from behind Ikuto, relaxing her firm grip on his arm. Only then did she realize how tightly she'd clung to him.

She didn't know what had propelled her to hold him so tightly… but she felt comforted when she knew that he was beside her.

Feeling a sudden boost of adrenaline and bravery, she parted her lips, inhaling deeply, readying her alertness.

"Why are you here?" She questioned lowly, unconsciously taking on the same hostile nature of Ikuto. "How do you know who I am? How do you know where I live?"

Her tone was steadily rising, as was her anger. She repeated over and over in her head with a strong determination:

_Whatever you do, Amu, do __**not**__ go soft. _

"Now, take it easy," the man said, putting his hands up. "I didn't come here to hurt you. I came here to help."

"Then answer me," she snapped icily.

Ikuto looked at her, seeming amused by her tone. Amu glared at the man in the doorway, thoroughly confused and angry, but he simply smirked right back, making her even more irate.

She was really beginning to believe that he and that annoying Ikuto were related or something – the same bloodline, at the very least.

Then, it clicked. _Wait a minute…_

Yoru sighed, scratched his head, and began speaking.

"Well, see, there's this company I work for –"

"How do you know Ikuto?" She stopped him abruptly.

He raised his eyebrows briefly, and smiled big.

"What, you mean he hasn't told you?"

He shot Ikuto an accusing smile – Ikuto looked away, still angry and anxious. Yoru shrugged his shoulders, smiling wide at Amu.

"We're good 'ole cousins!"

Amu's eyes widened, stunned.

She looked back and forth at the so-called cousins, and then it hit her.

_So__** that's**__ why they look so similar. _

She looked at Ikuto incredulously, leaning toward his ear.

"You never told me you had a cousin other than Tadase," she whispered to him, glancing warily at Yoru's smirk.

Ikuto didn't look at her. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. Though it had seemed all too impossible, the muscles in his body tensed further. His dark eyes had not left Yoru.

And Yoru was smirking back at him.

It was as if they were communicating to each other in some sort of family code – death glares. Ikuto's was filled with fury and built-up anger. Yoru's was more sarcastic, as if mocking his anger; still, sinister.

Amu didn't know how much more of the silence she could take.

Ikuto, however, was more than satisfied, despite what the expression on his face let on; as long as he could chase Yoru out of Amu's apartment in time to throw Easter off the chase.

Yoru met his glare head-on. He was never one to back away from a fight; especially from his older, stronger, taller, more handsome cousin. But nevertheless, this time he was the first to back down from the challenge.

He sighed, giving both Amu and Ikuto apologetic smiles.

_You're not here to fight, Yoru._

_After all, you have a mission._

"I know my coming here seems… suspicious," he said quietly, finally looking away from the two.

He scratched his head, causing a few spiky blue hairs in the back to stand slightly.

"I'm… not here to cause trouble. I'm not here to blackmail anyone, to kidnap anyone, or to steal anything."

He ruffled his hair, chuckling to himself lightly.

"In fact, I don't really know why I'm here."

Amu and Ikuto just stared at him, listening closely. Amu was attentive and understanding – Ikuto face was still dark and shadowed by his long indigo bangs.

Amu felt compelled to say something to him. But she said nothing, watching the man carefully.

Albeit mischievous, his eyes had dulled down dramatically to a gentle topaz glow. He looked up, and smirked softly at Ikuto.

"I guess I just wanted to see my cousin again." His smirk broadened. "S'been a while, huh, Ikuto?"

And at those words, Ikuto's eyes softened vividly. They still held hints of doubt and anxiety, but they no longer held such anger and darkness.

Amu looked up at him.

This was the most emotion she'd seen him display in a long time.

Amu then looked at Yoru.

For fleeting moments, she could swear that in all of her mixed emotions, she felt pity for Ikuto's cousin. It was just still so hard to accept that he was, in fact, Ikuto's cousin.

"So… you're Ikuto's cousin," she breathed, scanning the room briefly. "But how in the _world_ do you know who I am?"

She tried to keep her tone as calm as possible. Yoru just looked at her incredulously.

"Well, that's an easy one. Ikuto talked about you twenty-four –"

"**Yoru**."

Ikuto's clear-cut voice rang lowly through their ears. Yoru cringed, and tilted his head, wiggling his ear uncomfortably.

"Do y'always have to be so obnoxious?" He groaned hoarsely.

"I could ask you the same question," he muttered irritably.

Finally, Ikuto lowered his protective arm from Amu's waist, and she looked up at him.

It was only then that she realized just how heroic Ikuto really was.

As cheesy and cliché as it sounded, Ikuto had literally materialized before her – faster than she could comprehend – at the smell of danger. And at the speed of light, he'd surrounded her with a strong, unrelenting, protective embrace.

She inwardly pounded her forehead into her hand.

_…Oh, Amu. _

_You sap._

"But still," she persisted, shaking off her stupid thoughts. "How did you know… where I _live_?"

He just stared at her, as if she should know all this already. She simply folded her arms, tapped her foot, and waited. Yoru leaned against the doorway again, crossing his arms like Amu.

"I did some research on who you are, and where you live. Oh, and just by the way, I absolutely _adore_ Kyoko Magazine. Does it pay well? Oh, and who's that blue-haired chick that works at your office? She's _definitely_ a hottie. And that Kiddy King – has his voice even changed yet?" He smirked mockingly.

Amu's jaw dropped.

"W-what? You did _research_ on my _personal_ life?" She squawked.

Yoru frowned, and scratched his head.

"I don't see what's so personal about it… I already know all the gory details."

She gaped at him incredulously. Ikuto and Yoru… were most _definitely_ related.

-0-0-0-0-

"So you _do_ work at Easter?" Amu questioned, pouring dark, steamy liquid into a mug.

She slid the cup of coffee across the island, immediately pouring a second cup.

"Yeah, something to do with some family debt - thanks," Yoru muttered, accepting the mug graciously.

"Family debt?" Amu turned her head to him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ikuto react from the couch for the first time since she'd invited Yoru in to sit down.

Like a little child, he sat on the couch, facing away from them, sulking.

Like a little _bratty_ child.

However, when Yoru had mentioned this "family debt", he'd appeared to finally be at least acknowledging their conversation. Amu returned her gaze to Yoru, who looked suddenly exceedingly uncomfortable. His normally bright, mischievous topaz eyes were now clouded with worry.

But to her relief, he looked up at her with a slightly diffident smile.

"I guess so. Something like that. It's an ancestor thing." He flailed his arms in front of him. "Been going on for generations or something."

He took another gulp of his coffee.

"This is delicious, by the way."

Amu would've believed that he was trying to change the subject, until he sent her another carefree wink. Oh, how he had his ways of distracting her.

She took a sip of the steaming black liquid in her large, yellow mug, and her lips pursed at the bitter taste. She greatly preferred tea over coffee, but occasionally, she drank the pungent black liquid simply because she wanted to. In addition, she didn't want to seem wimpy by making tea instead of drinking manly coffee in a semi-serious conversation with a secret agent.

_…Oh, Amu._

_Get a freaking life. _

"Is that why you're here?" She said quietly.

She was almost afraid that he would answer honestly. He looked slightly taken aback by the question, so she repeated it. This time her voice was more firm.

"Are you here because of Easter? Did you come to get Ikuto?"

She didn't know why, but her voice cracked when she said his name. The same strange, heavy feeling tugged at her heart, painful and stinging. Why had it come back now? She had no idea.

But it couldn't possibly be because she wanted him to stay.

Of course not.

_…Right?_

"Well…" Yoru started, scratching his head.

Suddenly, a loud clattering in the corner of the kitchen broke through the awkward silence of the conversation. Amu jumped, and whirled around. She took one look at the ground, and gaped in irritable shock.

Ikuto simply looked at her dully, and muttered, "Trashcan's full."

Amu stormed over to the corner of the kitchen, muttering angry rants as she bent over to gather the garbage spilling over the full trash bag, directly on her precious white kitchen tiles.

Ikuto, of course, made no effort to help whatsoever. After all, it wasn't his fault that he'd placed one piece of trash in the garbage bag to cause the entire thing to explode. It wasn't his fault that the trashcan was filling up quicker than usual, due to the increasing amount of trash lately, consisting mostly of bloody bandages. It wasn't his fault that he'd went and gotten himself shot, just to save her sorry life.

It wasn't his fault that he'd left her to weep for five long, hard years.

Not at all.

Her heart felt heavy and pained again, and her hands quivered.

_Nothing_ was his fault – because he was perfect.

Amu, however, was a disgusting creature, not meant to intermingle with the perfection of a creature like Tsukiyomi Ikuto. He was a perfect, flawless celebrity – she was a dirty, struggling citizen. She wasn't meant to be with him. The two of them were meant to be separate. He was created to stay far away from her, and she was created to worship at his feet. He was too good for her. She didn't deserve him.

_She didn't deserve him. _

Without thinking, Amu grabbed the trash bag in one haphazard fumble, and stormed quickly out of her apartment. Her footsteps were light and quick, and in a fluster, she almost broke out into a run. Hot, angry tears stung at her eyes, and she swiped them away furiously before they had a chance to fall. Her throat burned with the pressure of detained tears. She hated crying, and she refused to waste it over something so trivial and stupid.

But her feet wouldn't stop, and neither would her tears.

Amu burst out the door of her flat, instantly greeted by a stinging blast of icy autumn wind. She dashed into the alley behind the flat, shivering violently through the current of cold wind surrounding her.

And with a loud, violent motion, she threw open the trash bin, slammed the bag inside, and slammed the lid shut with a resounding, metallic thud. The noise echoed through the alley, reverberating through her pulsing head.

She stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, letting the cold autumn breeze sink into her red-tinted ivory skin. To her chagrin, hot tears still stung against her numbly cold cheeks. She no longer felt the energy to wipe them away. She breathed a heavy, shaky sigh, and placed her hands on the alley wall. She leaned over, letting her throbbing head dangle between her thin, frozen arms. The blood in her head stopped flowing, and her legs felt like lead.

Everything within her felt… pained.

She closed her eyes, and finally let the tears fall freely.

It had been so long since she'd cried.

Not since the months after he'd left.

_Five years._

It felt no different than it had then. Painful, aching, excruciating - but unstoppable.

She opened her eyes, and watched the teardrops stain the concrete beneath her. Her cold, red fingers tingled against the alley wall, and she clenched her fists to return the blood flow.

She pounded her chest hard, mourning the ache in her lungs. Her vocal chords were strained and her lungs were filled with built-up tension.

But in the midst of all the heartache, the most painful aspect of her tears was that she was shedding them for the man that she swore she'd never cry for again.

Amu squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to push his perfect image out of her head. It was impossible, and there _was_ harm in trying, so she stopped. She let her aching head be filled with his sweet voice, his perfect face, and the sound of his violin that made her heart stop.

But it was all going away. _He _was going away - again. Once again, he was being taken away from her.

The burning fire of her tears licked at her mind, through her aching throat, directly to her heart.

More than ever, she wished the pain would stop thundering. More than ever, she wished to be held in the arms of the man she'd loved all along.

And more than ever, she just wished the tears would stop falling.

-0-0-0-0-

"What's eating her?" Yoru trailed Amu with wide eyes, darting fluidly down the hall.

Ikuto shrugged.

"She hates clutter."

He stood stoically, eyes fixated on the ground, hands in pockets.

His livid expression had dulled down dramatically. His eyes were solemn and serious, trained on the ground. Yoru matched his solemn gaze, trying to make eye-contact. A smirk no longer ghosted his face. Neither said a word – only kept silent, communicating through unsaid words.

Ikuto just wanted his cousin to leave. To flee the country, and escape from his stupid step-father's clutches. But there was no chance of that happening. Yoru's mother, like him, was forced to work for Easter because of a family debt. She meant too much to him, and he wasn't about to leave her behind to suffer the cruelty that her own brother dealt upon her.

Ikuto knew that Yoru wasn't here to hurt them. He knew that he hated Kazuomi Hoshina with a passion, and that he would do everything in his power to defy him. But coming to Amu's apartment was no doubt risky. He had no purpose to come, other than to flaunt his rebellion to his boss. Ikuto didn't buy the lie of "just wanting to see his cousin". Despite the fact that he'd finally let his guard down, he was still suspicious of his intentions.

Ikuto wasn't deaf. He'd heard the knock on the door, and he'd probably suspected the same as Amu had – the same two idiots who'd tried to hurt her. He'd also heard Amu whimpering, breathing his name quietly after the knock on the door. That's why he was waiting behind the doorframe all along, preparing himself for the moment with which to strike the men that came through the door.

She sounded scared. That would _**never**_ happen again.

Yoru looked at Ikuto expectantly, expecting a hostile question at any moment. Both of them knew that there was much to say – neither wanted to say it.

"How many are there?" Ikuto finally said lowly, after a prolonged silence.

"Too many." Yoru sighed, releasing his uncomfortable tension. He ran a hand through his spiky blue locks. "They're all over the city. One of them is bound to pick up on it when they stick their nose in your past."

Yoru looked up at his cousin solemnly, eyes narrowed and filled with anxiety.

"This is the most dangerous place you could do this, Ikuto. What the hell were you thinking?" His voice was hushed and low. "Why couldn't you just… do it and run?"

"I don't run anymore," Ikuto stated lowly.

"You don't? Or you can't?" He said heatedly.

Ikuto kept silent, staring blankly at the black kitchen countertop.

Yoru stared at him angrily, but couldn't possibly feel anger.

Yoru had no idea how it felt to love, but Ikuto did - and when Ikuto felt something, nothing and no one could come between him and his resolve to feel it.

Amu Hinamori. Strawberry pink hair, sparkling honey-golden eyes, resolved and determined personality. Ordinary, everyday 21-year-old woman, trying to get by in life. Totally impassive to love and happiness, because of a traumatizing incident five years ago. Just a normal, ordinary girl.

But to Ikuto, she was perfection.

Everything he lived and breathed for was her. Every time he slept, every time he dreamed, every time he breathed, she was on his mind.

Yoru wasn't stupid. He saw the hint of sorrow in his eyes when her name was mentioned. He saw the way he daydreamed every time another woman tried to speak to him.

Ikuto wasn't as pokerfaced as he'd liked to believe.

And whether Yoru liked to believe it or not, Amu Hinamori was still fresh in his mind. Amu Hinamori still meant everything to him, and no one – not himself, not his cousin, not his sister, not even his own stepfather – could change that.

"I won't." Ikuto suddenly said.

Yoru snapped out of his thought, and looked at Ikuto carefully. His eyes were filled with more determination than Yoru had ever witnessed or felt in his life.

He flashed his gaze directly at Yoru, who was taken aback. His voice came out low and clear; unwavering and determined.

"I _won't _run again."

Yoru stood abruptly, smirking to himself.

"Still stubborn, I see."

He glanced at him, the mischievous twinkle rejuvenated within his gleaming topaz eyes.

"Too stubborn to change." He shrugged defiantly. "Oh well. Mission failed."

Yoru grinned rebelliously, placing his hands behind his head and staring at Ikuto with a one-eyed grin.

"Guess the Boss will be disappointed."

He whirled around, and opened the door. Ikuto seemed slightly startled, staring blankly at his cousin's back.

"You'd better brush up on those fighting skills if you're gonna stay put," Yoru chuckled. "You don't want Amu thinkin' you're a softie."

"Who said I was fighting?" Ikuto said quickly, almost on the verge of a grin.

Yoru stopped at the doorway, turned his head, and seemed to hesitate. Finally, he spoke quickly.

"Keep her safe, Ikuto. Hoshina's not stupid. He knows who she is, and he knows what she means to you. Watch the gate on the east side of town. His idiots should come in through there, and when the time comes, make sure you have a temporary safe house. That bastard will stop at nothing to make you reap what you've sowed; _especially_ if it means taking what you love most."

Suddenly, he turned and smiled, scratching his head.

"Well, it's been fun, cousin. Looks like another five years until we speak again."

Finally, Ikuto smirked at his younger cousin, relaxing his tense shoulders.

"Looks like it."

Yoru took a step out the door, and waved a hand at his cousin.

"Later, Ikuto," he grinned. "And… take care. Take care of her."

And with those words, Yoru slipped out of the apartment without a sound.

-0-0-0-0-

Amu walked slowly out of the alley, holding her stomach tighter than necessary.

She wanted to slap herself for not thinking to wear any form of warmth in the freezing autumn weather.

And yet, somehow, the cold didn't seem so unbearable. Her entire body was numb – all she could feel was the throbbing in her head, the sting in her throat, and the heavy ache in her gut. Her legs felt heavier than ever as she trudged back into her flat, holding her aching head and stomach tenderly.

For as long as she could remember, anger was her way of expressing her sorrow. Slamming things, breaking things, punching walls - thus, storming out of her kitchen and slamming the trash in the bin was not surprising behavior to her. She'd just had a terrible break-down, and the after-effects were finally beginning to set in; she felt like a complete and total idiot. She felt like a wimp, and she felt like a crybaby; and it all started because the trash in her kitchen spilled over.

_You're such an emotional wreck, Amu. _

But the same thought kept nagging at her brain, even though the tears were wiped away –

_Are they really going to take Ikuto away?_

As hard as she tried to seem indifferent about it, she couldn't possibly lie to her own heart. It felt heavy and overwhelmed just thinking about him. Amu didn't know if she could handle losing him for the second time.

But she would have to.

_Tough it out, Amu._

_You've been through it once, and you'll do it again. _

She opened the door to her flat, and was startled when she almost ran into a figure in her doorway.

She looked up through her blurred vision, and was taken aback to see Yoru Nakamura glaring at her.

"Y-Yoru," she breathed, hoping her tears were invisible. "L-leaving so soon?"

"It seems I've overstayed my welcome," he snapped. "Your foolish boyfriend has spunk, I'll give him that. But just remember, Hinamori Amu – this is not over. We will triumph. You will fail. End of discussion."

Amu's eyes widened.

Suddenly, his eyes darted to the street, and returned to her. He flashed her a small, barely noticeable wink and smile. As he brushed past her harshly, he muttered quietly –

"Take care of him, okay?"

– and walked down the street.

Amu stood there, bewildered.

_What… was that?_

She walked inside her flat, and peered outside the door, to see Yoru's short, muscular figure in a circle of three men in black suits and sunglasses.

Without another word, she whirled around, and slammed the door behind her, breathing heavily.

Suddenly, the weight on her heart was gone. The heaviness in her head slowly disappeared. She almost felt the liberty to smile.

The warm heat of the apartment hit her like a ray of sun, instantly enveloping her in a warm, blissful feeling. She leaned back against the door, pulling her sleeves over her frozen hands. She breathed into her cotton-sweater hands, feeling suddenly lightheaded and carefree.

No doubt those men were from Easter. No doubt they had come for Ikuto. And no doubt Yoru had just told them that Ikuto was nowhere to be found.

Yoru had just saved her life. Yoru had just saved Ikuto's life.

All with a speech, a smile, and a wink.

She grinned to herself. Despite being related to a useless idiot like Ikuto, Yoru wasn't all that bad.

Her heart suddenly fluttered just thinking of her tall, midnight-eyed fugitive. Why was that? She wouldn't pretend to be oblivious.

Whether she liked it or not, she almost… _liked_ having him around. She liked waking up to his face every morning, and she liked getting to know him once again, bit by bit. She liked the warm feeling he set in her heart when he protected her. She…

She liked the warm blush that flooded her cheeks when they touched.

...Wait, _what_?

WHOA, whoa, whoa.

Amu wanted to smack herself.

_Too carried away, Amu. _

God, was she bipolar or what?

Amu put a finger to her lips, and unconsciously let out a small giggle – something she hadn't done in ages. Every burden and heaviness in her body had been lifted with a single small happenstance. Just a wink and a smile had completely turned her world around.

She was housing a celebrity. She was keeping crimes a secret from the police. She was hiding a vital key to an organization. And it felt _good_.

For the first time in a long time, she felt… content.

Almost happy.

With a small smile, Amu waved her limbs around quietly, returning the blood flow. She shook her head, returning her expression from its abnormally pleasant state. She clenched and unclenched her fists, finally feeling warmth in her numb fingers.

She stopped at her door, and breathed in and out several times.

She wiped beneath her eyes, removing smudged mascara, and combed through her hair, eliminating the tangles.

_Since when did she care what she looked like around Ikuto?_

Amu sighed heavily, feeling suddenly hopelessly and completely idiotic. Nevertheless, it didn't stop her from feeling idiotically happy.

It was safe to say that her life had been officially turned around. For years, her very existence had been in a suspension of sleep – and Ikuto had been its official wake-up call. Now, fully awakened from her comatose, she felt a refreshment and stimulus like she'd never felt before.

And yet, something within told her that things were not going to stay this way. No, things were going to get much different.

Amu breathed a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair, smiling.

_Tsukiyomi Ikuto… what have you done to me?_

* * *

_(A/N) - oh, sweet, sweet happy chappie endings. don't'cha love 'em?_

_review. now. _

_please?_


	11. Wasting Time

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 10

* * *

"Okay. There's microwavable food in the fridge, and there's extra gauze in the cabinet in case you bleed again... and Tucker's with Kuukai, so you shouldn't have to deal with him…" Amu yelled, trailing off, placing a dainty, glossy black pinky nail on the corner of her lips.

She scanned the apartment, as if looking for something more to yell at the top of her lungs. Ikuto didn't reply, and Amu wondered if he was even choosing to listen to her from the bathroom.

She sighed heavily, planting her forehead in her hand.

She sounded like a hyperactive mother.

Amu had felt strangely jumpy that morning – immediately when she woke up, her mind registered a completely different train of thought than it usually did:

Work. Ikuto.

_Problem_.

She'd rushed through her shower, air-dried her hair until her head spun, and slipped on the first thing in her closet that she laid eyes on –

A dark purple strapless blouse, a slim, high-waist black skirt, and a thick black belt hung high on her thin waist.

As bad as the day was sure to turn out, Amu did _not_ want to look sloppy.

She snatched a pair of dark purple open-toed heels from her closet, and practically chucked them into the kitchen, while snatching her makeup bag, her lotion, and knee-high tan stockings from her dresser.

Her mind was so scrambled, she hardly paid any attention to her actions.

Surely, today would be absolute chaos.

In addition, today was Monday, November 6th; she had a lunch date with her friends.

She groaned just at the thought.

_Any_ day _other_ than today would be absolutely gorgeous to do lunch with the Guardians.

But it was Monday morning, it was raining, and it was nerve-wracking to leave Ikuto alone in her apartment for a whole day.

Amu assumed that he would do no more than sleep; however, the nagging thought of someone like Yoru breaking down her door did _not_ sit well with her. What if Easter did come to take Ikuto away while she was gone? He's injured – would he be able to hide?

She shook her head.

_This is Ikuto you're talking about, stupid. _

Amu waltzed into the kitchen gracefully, expertly snatching her wallet and her purse in one professional twirl. Her glance passed over the fruit bowl and the open box of granola bars – even the cereal cabinet swung wide open. She was in _no_ mood for breakfast. She had plenty of other things to worry about, with which she was hurrying through for some reason.

She hiked up her tight black skirt, and threw her leg up onto the kitchen counter, stretching it flexibly, while simultaneously massaging soft lotion into her calves and thighs.

"Oh, and if you get any deliveries, just keep quiet and wait for him to leave," Amu yelled again, leaning her head toward the bathroom. "The package should either be sitting outside the door, or he'll just give it to Kuukai."

"I'm not deaf," a low voice suddenly said.

Amu looked to her right, and saw Ikuto standing there, head tilted, hand pounding the side of his skull.

Amu suppressed a giggle.

He seemed exceedingly irritated, trying to pound the water out of his ear.

"You sure?" She smirked.

With a small, refreshing laugh, she turned back to her upright leg, and finished smoothing the lotion on her thigh.

"Well, aren't you the flexible one."

Amu paused. She felt Ikuto's eyes on her, and quickly yanked her leg off the countertop, and smoothed her skirt down hastily. Unconsciously, she felt a warm heat spreading across her cheeks. She shot him a goaded glare.

She leaned over to apply the lotion to the other leg, meanwhile glaring at Ikuto's smug expression from the corner of the kitchen.

Her brief good mood had gone sour. All thanks to a man's twisted mind.

Somehow, everything Amu managed to say to this man seemed to have some sort of a twist to it, and naturally, Ikuto's distorted mind transformed it into something totally different than what she meant to say. Something totally _disgusting_.

From now on, she would have to think extremely hard about every comment she directed at that idiot.

With a final glare, she slammed the lotion container back on the counter, and unzipped her makeup bag.

She looked into the mirror on the wall of her kitchen. The dim light of the kitchen made her look deathly pale, and she cringed at the curly wave in her long, bright fuchsia hair.

She hated curl.

_**Hated**_ _it_.

She sighed, and applied a thin layer of mascara on her eyelashes, and a thin layer of deep purple eye shadow to her eyelids. She began brushing her face with a lightly tanned foundation.

Usually, she didn't worry about makeup. She didn't necessarily enjoy worrying about it on top of every other necessity in the morning.

But she didn't want to look like trash on a lunch date with her friends, consisting also of men.

Judgmental men.

Men that she still cared about looking presentable in front of.

Suddenly, long, pale arms wrapped around her neck, and warm breath tickled her cheek.

"So, you still trying to impress that Kiddy King?"

Looking into the mirror, Ikuto's face was inches from hers.

Amu turned her head spastically.

However, she was a bit more spastic than she meant to be, and the tip of her nose brushed against Ikuto's.

Her head and her heart were screaming.

_Oh… oh __**my.**_

His eyes bore into hers, sucking her into a vortex of passion and temptation. Every inch of her body tingled with every breath he breathed onto her face.

She was _that_ close again.

Suddenly, she snapped out of it, almost as fast as she'd been drawn in – _slowly_.

"What? No!" She answered irritably, in a fluster.

_Seriously, can he read minds?_

Although Amu surely wasn't in love with Hotori Tadase, she did care about what she looked like around him, and only him. Nagi and Kuukai had already seen her at her worst, and there was no turning back when that happened. Tadase, however, hadn't. He wasn't as close to her as the other men in her life, and yet, was seen to the naked eye as more than just a friend. Although the romantic feelings she once felt toward him had disappeared, his feelings for her hadn't. Thus, she felt a different sort of friendship toward Tadase. A special friendship.

One that Ikuto was trying to ruin.

Amu growled at him.

"Unlike some people, I simply care about my reputation!"

The muscular arms around her neck drew back slowly.

"Ouch." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

Amu clenched and unclenched her fists tightly, straining the muscles in her arms. If she didn't do so, she might end up whirling around and punching the nasty idiot in the face.

She'd had her fill of irritating Ikuto for the day. She was _this_ close to blowing up in his sorry, smug face.

Was he _trying_ to make her fall for him again?

Because this is _exactly_ what she fell for more than 6 years ago.

She was fifteen, and she had known Ikuto since elementary. Looking back, she'd confidently say that the two of them were good friends, though none approved of their friendship. Ikuto was always annoyingly flirtatious, unpredictable and free, while Amu was always cold and reprimanding; secretly envying his freedom – but altogether, the two somehow enjoyed each other's company. There was always a thin wall between them, holding them back from becoming closer. But then, one day, everything changed.

_Everything_.

"How'd you even know that I was seeing them today?" Amu said blankly, glancing at Ikuto, trying to shrug off the painful memories.

Ikuto shrugged.

"Your phone."

She slammed her hand on the counter.

"You read my texts?" She raged, unconsciously whirling around and taking a step toward Ikuto.

To her vexation, he too took a step forward, meeting her glare head-on with a smirk very close to her face.

"Problem?" His lips popped, moving even closer to her face.

She hesitated, still in hypnosis from his daunting eyes.

Her head screamed with fury.

_Why does he always have to get so damn close?_

Then again…

His eyes _are_ a pretty shade of purple and blue…

She quickly slinked away venomously, returning her gaze to the mirror.

_Why does he always have to be so damn mesmerizing?_

"Idiot," she stated flatly. "Just because you're staying here, **temporarily**, does not mean you can steal my phone and read my personal life page by page."

And she meant it – she remembered the texts from Yaya, specifically about Ikuto, and prayed to Jesus that Ikuto himself didn't see them.

Amu finished her makeup, and snatched her knee-highs from the countertop.

"Okay, around noon, Kuukai should run up here and drop off Tucker. He'll only be here for about an hour or two, then Kai's coming back to bring him down again…"

She suddenly smirked, and smoothed out the tan stocking mid-thigh. She stood upright, and for once, she was the one smirking deviously.

"Oh – and he hates cats."

Feeling satisfied by his silence, she lifted her foot again, and began slipping on the other stocking, still smirking to herself.

Suddenly, she felt warm gust of wind tickle her ear.

Her hand sprung to her ear, and she rubbed it furiously, immediately glaring at Ikuto.

"What the –"

"And I hate dogs." He replied with a smug smirk.

She scowled venomously, and let out a resounding, frustrated growl, before yanking up the stocking on her leg, slipping on her purple pumps, snatching her purse and wallet, and speeding out the door, brushing past Ikuto harshly on the way.

She was _glad_ to be without him for a day.

"You forgot your perfume."

Then she froze.

Without a word, without a glance, and without contact whatsoever, Amu spun around, and dashed back into her bedroom. She snatched the strawberry perfume bottle from the dresser, and sprayed a few quick sprits on her wrists and neck. Then she whirled around again, and sped out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Ikuto was waiting patiently by the door with her pea coat and umbrella.

Amu walked up to him casually, trying to seem indifferent and ungrateful – instead, she ended up looking flustered and embarrassed. She took her coat, threw it over her arm, and snatched her umbrella.

She looked up at him for a moment, studied his smug expression with agitation, and without a word, walked out the door.

Ikuto smirked deftly, closing the door behind her.

_How interesting. _

Amu let out a flustered sigh, slipping on her coat.

_How annoying. _

Then, going their separate ways, they both let out a reluctant smile.

_How… infuriatingly charming. _

-0-0-0-0-

"Thank you, Su," Amu sighed, eagerly lifting the steamy Styrofoam cup to her lips.

The warm green tea seemed to soothe her mind and soul, and she closed her eyes in serenity, inhaling its healing vapor.

_Oh, sweet, sweet warmth…_

"Anytime, Miss Hinamori," echoed Su Yoshida's honey-coated voice.

For once, Amu looked up at Su with a queer smile.

"Don't call me that. It sounds like I'm old or something. Just Amu is fine."

"Okay… A-Amu!" Su beamed with excitement.

Amu propped her slender legs onto the corner of her black metal desk, and continued sipping her hot tea, listening to Su recite the events of the day.

Amu scanned her office blankly, barely listening to Su's perky babble. Modern paintings hung on the walls, casting bright sprits of color onto the retro black and white scene. Several decorative plants speckled the office, and bouquets of various dried flowers hung upside-down on the walls – something she'd done since she was a child. It made the flowers dry stiff, to be preserved longer. Every bouquet she'd earned since college graduation hung on her office walls. Some thought it to be ominous and dark; Amu saw it as her very own décor, adding a splash of vibrant color to her boring office job.

She made a mental note to bring Nagi's flowers to the office the next day.

But as hard as she tried to distract herself with everyday things, she couldn't help thinking about Ikuto.

The instant that happened, her mind would obliviously wander. Whether it was concern, attraction, anger, or simply the thought of the day, she could not get Ikuto out of her mind. Eventually, she'd snap out of it, staring intently at Su in hopes of retrieving her concentration. However, it failed.

She couldn't push the image of a bloody, unconscious Ikuto out of her mind.

It became more and more frightening as her thoughts increased.

When Su came across lunchtime, Amu snapped out of her reverie, and interjected,

"Ah, yes, about lunch. I'll be going to the outskirts of the city, so could you notify Miss Watanabe that I requested an extended lunch hour?

"Sure. That's funny; Mister Fujisaki said the same thing. Are you two going out on a date?"

Amu sputtered on her tea, and quickly wiped her mouth with a napkin before any could escape onto her clothes. She sighed in relief, regaining her composure instantly.

"No, no," she managed to let out a small laugh. "We're just meeting some friends of ours."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for misunderstanding, I just –"

"Perfectly understandable." She waved a hand dismissively.

And with that, the brief delay was surmounted. Su finished reading off the rest of the schedule, and Amu managed to tune in an ear and catch most of the day's happenings. She sent Su on her way, and as she waltzed out the door, she turned and smiled at Amu.

"You seem noticeably cheerful today, Mi – err, Amu," she said warmly. "Did something happen over the weekend?"

Amu just stared at her blankly, mind instantly wandering.

_Did something _happen_ over the weekend?_

_Oh, something happened all right. _

Her mind could hardly wrap around the fact that it was all past. It was now a memory to reflect on – almost getting kidnapped, threatened with a gun, saved by a hero, and dragging a bloodied celebrity back to her apartment, who just happened to be the love of her teenage life.

"…mu? Miss Amu?" Su's voice broke into her thoughts.

Amu stared blankly at Su for a moment, smirked, and then looked down at her desk.

"Y'know…" she started.

She smiled.

"…You probably wouldn't believe it if I told you." She muttered with a grin. "Go on, Su."

"Yes, ma'am," Su let out a small giggle.

Amu watched the green-haired secretary waltz cheerily out the door, humming softly as she clip-clopped down the hall.

Cheerful?

Amu mulled over the words of her secretary, over and over. She seemed… cheerful to Su. She knew she felt different, like she was in a strange mood, but…

Cheerful?

Of anything, she'd venture to say that her outside character was depressed.

_How the heck could you be cheerful, Amu?_

She simply sighed, brushed it off, and took another sip of her tea. It burned the surface of her mouth, but it felt _so_ good.

Amu stared bitterly at the scattered papers across her desk, and took a glance at her silver watch.

9:38.

She sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. Lunchtime couldn't _possibly_ come sooner.

-0-0-0-0-

"Tsukiyomi?"

Kuukai knocked softly on Amu's door, slightly hesitant to wake the constantly sleeping man.

He heard a loud scratching sound beneath him, and looked down.

"Shh!" Kuukai whispered harshly.

Tucker looked up at him, tongue hanging out, half-smiling. He continued scratching at Amu's front door with a whine. Kuukai hurriedly pulled his keys out of his back pants pocket.

"Alright, okay! Chill!" He whispered harshly again, glaring at the golden retriever. "You don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

Kuukai pushed the key through the lock, turning and failing to open. He tried again, persistent and slightly impatient.

"C'mon, stupid –"

Finally, the lock gave way with a _click_, and Kuukai opened the door slowly, peering around the dimly lit apartment. Tucker bounded in between his legs, and instantly, his ears perked up and his nose twitched. Kuukai walked into the apartment, and was slightly startled to see a tall figure leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Oh. So you are awake." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the great answering service."

Ikuto calmly took a sip of milk from the glass in his hand.

"I was specifically ordered not to answer the door for anyone."

"What are you, her kid?" Kuukai muttered to himself, smirking.

"What are _you_, her dog keeper?" Ikuto fired back.

Kuukai stared at him incredulously, surprised that he heard the offhand comment. He smirked.

"Oh yeah, I forgot – cats have insane hearing."

Ikuto did not smile. He simply glared restlessly at the intruder that dared to invade his privacy. The fluffy, golden intruder glared right back, snarling lowly.

Kuukai could've sworn he was in the middle of a western stand-off.

"Look, he's just irritated. He won't hurt you."

"I'm trembling," Ikuto commented sarcastically.

Kuukai filled up Tucker's food and water bowl, slightly unnerved by the tense mood in the room. He finished, and stood up, stretching obnoxiously.

"O-kay, well, as much as I'd love to stay and be the referee, I'm starving. I gotta be heading out."

He seemed to hesitate, as if waiting for Ikuto to say something.

"Something stopping you?" Ikuto questioned raucously.

Kuukai smirked.

"Any messages for Mom?" He asked, opening the door.

Ikuto was silent. His gaze hadn't drifted from the snarling golden retriever.

"Yeah," he answered.

Kuukai waited, and Ikuto finally looked at him blankly.

"We're out of milk."

Kuukai nodded, smirking inwardly.

"I'll be sure to let her know."

He closed the door behind him, grinning. He could only imagine how much of a hell the next hour would be for Tsukiyomi Ikuto, the human cat.

-0-0-0-0-

"Nagi?" Amu knocked on the black office door softly.

"Come in, Amu."

She opened the door, and Nagi smiled at her handsomely from behind his desk.

"Good afternoon," he said gently, standing and placing a file in the corner cabinet.

As always, his appearance was refined and pristine – long, navy hair pulled into a low ponytail, white dress shirt and tucked in to his smoothly-ironed khaki pants. His soft, brown eyes only added charm to his handsome smile – Amu always wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend.

Then again, when she thought about how many he'd politely rejected, his flawless perfection seemed to decrease.

Nevertheless, he was one of the best, most faithful friends Amu could have.

"I'm going to head out pretty soon – I don't want to miss the bus, so I guess I'll do a little shopping before meeting you guys at lunch," Amu said, peeking her head into his office.

Nagihiko waved his hand dismissively.

"No, you don't have to do that. I plan on leaving soon, too; you can ride in my car."

"Oh, okay."

Amu walked into his office, and closed the door behind her.

Nagi's office was relatively similar to hers – mainly black and white, which was Kyoko Magazine's theme, with a few splashes of color on the walls. Paintings, plants, and even a few childish drawings from the students at his mother's dance studio. He frequently acted as his mother's assistant on weekends and breaks, and the kids loved him.

Amu walked slowly up to Nagihiko's desk, turning her attention to him. He shuffled some papers around, signed a couple papers, and said distractedly,

"Let me just finish up here and we'll head out."

Amu took a closer look at her friend's eyes, and placed her hands on his desk.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" She asked with a concerned smile.

He looked at her, slightly startled by the question. It only became more evident to Amu when his eyes met with hers.

There were slight dark circles under his eyes, something that never happened to his flawless pale skin, even under minor sleep deprivation. His wide, soft brown eyes were narrowed and weary-looking.

Finally, he smiled softly, and ran a hand through his navy silk bangs.

"Is it that obvious?"

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled.

Amu felt pity for her friend. Nagi never looked this drained. He was always the one cheering Amu up, comforting her when she had a lack of sleep.

She sighed, and sat on the edge of his desk.

Now it was her turn.

"What's on your mind?" She asked softly.

Nagihiko looked down blankly, still smiling half-heartedly. His furrowed eyebrows and tired eyes made him look almost cynical. He placed a hand on his forehead, sighing deeply.

"I don't really… know." He whispered quietly. "Everything. My head just feels like it's weighed down with stress. Work is terrible… Miss Watanabe has me cleaning up next month's issue for the fourth time, as if I didn't have enough on my plate. And between planning the reunion with Tadase and helping Mama out at the school… mmh, that feels nice…"

He stopped mid-sentence, closing his eyes and finally relaxing his tense shoulders beneath Amu's gentle touch.

Through the middle of his rant, Amu had maneuvered her way behind his chair and laid her hands gently on his tense shoulders. The muscles from his neck to his shoulders were strained, and Amu squeezed them gently in just the right places. The tenseness visibly disappeared, and Nagi finally released his habit of good posture and slumped back in his chair.

Amu suppressed a laugh.

As much pity as she felt for her friend, she couldn't help but smile at the serene, almost dumb-struck grin on his face.

"Sounds tough," she agreed. "But the way I see it, heavy work is like a mid-term – remember those? – and the harder you study and work, the more satisfaction you'll feel when it's all over. And straight-A student Nagihiko Fujisaki will pass with flying colors, with energy and poise to spare."

Nagihiko finally let out a real smile, looking up at Amu with gentle brown eyes.

"Only you would compare an adult's job to a high-school mid-term."

They both laughed, and Amu finished massaging her blue-haired friend's shoulders. He rolled his neck around a few times, and bid her intimate thanks, before grabbing his tan trench coat and holding the door open courteously. Amu nodded her thanks.

As they walked down the black and white halls, Nagihiko asked abruptly,

"So, do you plan on telling anyone about… him?"

The words struck Amu like an arrow.

She had nearly forgotten about him.

And those _had_ to be the _worst_ words to bring him back into her mind.

"Umm… well –"

"I won't pressure you," Nagihiko said tenderly, calming her nerves with his gentle voice. "If you don't want to think about it now, I won't say another word."

"No, it's not that, it's…" Amu hesitated, trying to find the right words to say without saying too much. "I… don't know if I want to say anything. I mean, as much as I want everyone to know, I just… don't want everyone to know. Y'know?" She pleaded hopelessly.

Nagi chuckled.

"I completely understand."

"And I'm afraid everyone else won't!" Amu wailed, shoving her forehead into her hand.

"Amu, if there's anyone in the world that will understand your predicament, it's your best friends. I'm sure they'll find it in their hearts not to disband you from further contact or communication," he said with sarcasm.

She huffed, and glared at his sweet little sarcastic smile.

Although she would never admit or show it, she really was worried about the luncheon she was about to have with her friends. Ordinarily, she would be thrilled –

However, the injured musician holed up in her apartment _definitely_ put a damper on things.

Yaya would probably just squeal and demand for an autograph and personal interview. Kuukai already knew, he seemed supportive, although he teased her about it. Rima would metaphorically ring her neck, but would eventually cool down enough to simply glare at her for not spilling sooner. Nagihiko already knew as well, and he seemed whole-heartedly supportive, but Amu knew something was holding him back. Tadase would…

She cringed, and stepped into the elevator.

_Tadase_.

Just the thought made her stomach turn. This had happened before. Ikuto had stayed in Amu's room at one point when they were together, after being slightly injured, and when Tadase found out, he didn't look Amu in the eyes for days. Although the two were cousins, something that happened in the past had permanently separated them with deep, dark hatred. Tadase did a good job of hiding it, but Amu couldn't be fooled.

It tore her heart out just thinking that she only worsened the hate by falling for one and denying the other.

"Amu? You alright?"

Amu looked up, startled. The elevator doors were open before her, and she stared at the ground floor.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

He gave her a knowing smile, and they walked into the lobby.

Nagi signaled the woman at the front desk with his usual nonchalant wave, indicating 'off-to-lunch'. He led Amu to his black Mercedes Benz, and unlocked the car. He opened the driver's seat door, and said over the car,

"By the way, how in the world did you learn to massage like that?"

Finally, Amu let out a laugh, releasing all of her tension and oppressive thoughts.

"Kuukai says I'm a natural whenever he comes home from the gym. He told me to start a business or something."

Nagi chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing his neck. "I'd hire you," he muttered with a smirk.

And through the entire car drive, Amu pushed the negative thoughts out of her mind and had a nice conversation with her friend Nagi.

Maybe the lunch wouldn't be so bad… she just had to keep her mouth shut – something she was _never_ good at.

* * *

_(A/N) - so do any of you hardkore Jane Austen fans notice the connection to "Persuasion" here?_

_i'll give you a minute. _

_..._

_see it? yeah. i know i do. well, as you can probably tell, this is basically the genuinely boring filler chapter that i had to stuff in here somehow. sorry :3_

_anyhoo, review. thanks. _


	12. Ordinary World

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 11

* * *

"Amu! Fujisaki! So nice of you to drop by," Kuukai teased, smirking.

The pink and blue-haired duo smiled apologetically, walking gracefully side-by-side to the marble table in the corner of the café.

"Sorry we're late," Nagihiko apologized. "The downtown traffic was terrible."

"Don't worry about it – Tadase isn't here either," Yaya muttered, a bored expression on her face. "Can we just eat already? I'm starving!"

Rima glared daggers at her strawberry blonde-haired friend.

"Yaya."

"Okay, okay… I'll wait…" Yaya stuffed her cheeks into her hands.

Nagihiko pulled a chair out for Amu, and she sat gracefully, blushing and thanking him. She looked at her surroundings – the quaint little coffee shop had soft, mellow music playing, and the tables were adorned with vases of fresh white lilies. As small as it was, it bloomed with liveliness and bubbly chatter. Amu was at a loss to find a single frowning face. Even the waiters and waitresses seemed to genuinely love their job.

Every negative thought in Amu's mind seemed a little brighter in the midst of the vibrant café.

That is, until she looked at Kuukai.

Her stomach twisted and screwed just looking at the devious, wicked smirk. She tried to look away, but his smug expression was like a guilt vacuum – it made her wonder what in the world she'd done to make him look at her like that.

When she made sure no one was looking, Amu shot him a venomous glare.

"What, Kai?"she snapped in a harsh whisper. "Something on my face?"

He said nothing – only let out a muffled chuckle, shook his head, and finally turned away. Amu huffed inwardly, thoroughly flustered.

_Tch. Boys. _

Amu paid little attention to the lively conversation her friends were having; she was sandwiched between Nagihiko and Rima, Yaya obtained the end of the table, Kuukai sat across from Amu, and a vacant seat at the other side of the table awaited Tadase. Amu wondered where he was – he was rarely late, there had to be a reason.

The conversation had something to do with a job opportunity for Rima – she already knew about that – and a recital for Yaya, which she already knew about as well.

_Phew. Good. You're covered. _

After establishing that, she simply and willingly let her mind wander. Keeping her wide-eyed gaze trained on the white lily in the center of the table, Amu began to argue with herself.

_They deserve to know about Ikuto, Amu. They're your friends – it's not like they could shun you. _

_But I wouldn't put it past them completely. The others could still hate you for it. _

_But at least you'll have gotten it off your chest! It hurts to hold things in – you know that. _

_Some people might not take it as well as the others already have. Can't you imagine the look on Tadase's face when you tell him?_

_He's learned to deal with it. Don't you remember? He said he'll always love you, but he wants you to go your own way. What's holding you back, Amu?_

_Who the hell said I was in love again?_

"Earth to Hinamori Amu!"

"I think spaceship Amu is currently in orbit, Kuukai."

Amu's eyes snapped open, not realizing that they were closed. She abruptly smacked Kuukai's obnoxious, flopping hand from in front of her face, and shot him a dull glare. She squeezed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes.

"Sorry," she muttered, forcing a smirk. "Talking about me?"

"Talking _to_ you, hun," Yaya giggled.

"Sleep-deprived again, Amu?" Rima questioned through clenched teeth.

Amu hesitantly looked over to her blonde-haired friend, and was surprised to see a small smile on her delicate, doll-like features. Amu smiled weakly back, blinking a few times and rubbing her eyes, recovering from her sleepy spell.

_Wake up, Amu. Stop thinking about Ikuto. _

_He doesn't matter to you anymore, remember?_

"Tadase!" Yaya's face lit up.

"Finally!" Kuukai groaned.

Amu turned, and felt a small smile creep up on her face as the blonde-haired business man walked quickly through the chocolate box café. He flashed his picturesque smile at the group, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the collar of his white dress shirt. His soft, rose-colored eyes scanned the group slowly as they all waved at their Guardian King.

Amu felt his gaze stop on her, and his expression seemed to change a bit – his smile broadened, and his head tilted to the side.

Subconsciously, Amu did an appearance check.

_Did I forget anything? Did my makeup smudge…?_

_No, dufus, you're being paranoid! _

"I'm terribly sorry I'm so late," Tadase apologized, laying his suit jacket on the back of his chair. "The meeting ran longer than I expected."

"It's al –"

"Just sit down so we can eat!" Yaya moaned playfully.

The group laughed, and Tadase sat obediently with a smile. The circle was now complete – the Seiyo Academy Guardians were assembled once more. Just the thought brought an irregular smile to Amu's face. She was determined to shove all negative thought aside; Ikuto would have to wait to worry her pretty head.

What she needed most right now was to spend quality time with the friends she'd known and loved all her life.

She needed a break from all the pressure. This was it.

And from that moment on, the smile never left Amu's face.

-0-0-0-0-

"He will see you now, Miss Hoshina."

The thin, statuesque blonde-haired idol stood slowly, brushing her skirt and straightening her collar. She slipped the pair of dark sunglasses onto her eyes.

She straightened her shoulders, breathed in, and pushed the double doors open.

She closed the door behind her.

"Utau." A low voice boomed.

The room was pitch black. The only sound was the _pitter-patter_ of the rain on the roof.

"So you still live. How nice."

"What do you want?" She snapped.

It was more of a demand than a question - something she inherited from the man who stood before her.

Utau glared behind the dark glasses at the man hiding in the shadows.

Surely he knew how much the world hated him. Surely he knew how much _she_ **despised** him.

Nothing would atone for his despicable cruelty. He'd abused his authority over her brother and her, and now, Utau wanted nothing to do with him. She wished that he would die; that he would disappear off the face of the earth and leave her to live in peace.

_However_…

She clenched her fists tightly. The brother that she loved so dearly was now missing – and Kazuomi Hoshina had something to do with it.

She'd bet her life on it.

"I want answers to every question that I ask of you," the guttural voice echoed.

_Oh, he'll get answers. _

_Good ones. _

"Where is Tsukiyomi Ikuto?"

Utau said nothing.

"Alright, another question." His chair swiveled around to face her. "Where, Utau, is your stupid, foolish brother, who has a debt to pay?"

Silence.

The downpour increased, and a flash of lightning illuminated the dark office. Utau captured a small glance of her father's wrinkled, sadistic scowl.

She didn't care.

She wasn't afraid of him. Not anymore.

"…Hm. I thought you would've known. I suppose I'll just have to pay a visit to that stupid man you call your stepfather."

Utau's poise snapped. Her nails dug into her skin. The man she cared about - the one she'd never met before in her life.

Ikuto's father.

"You wouldn't dare." Her strength was dissipating.

A low growl of thunder echoed across the city. The ground quivered, along with Utau's jaw.

"Wouldn't I?" He scoffed.

Utau sprang forward, ripping the sunglasses off her face. She'd worn them to hide her emotions from her stupid father - now, she wanted him to see her face _clearly_. She slammed her fists on the desk, amethyst eyes flashing with fury.

"**You –**"

"Brat."

Hoshina whirled around in his seat, facing the dark skies outside the window.

"You _will_ tell me where that stupid boy is. If you don't…"

_Crack_.

Her heart stopped at the loud thunder clap, striking fear in her chest like a gunshot.

"…Your dead mother will."

There was a loud _crack__, _followed by the sound of broken glass.

There were hurried footsteps, another growl from the sky, and a loud _slam_ of closing doors.

Utau walked lithely down the darkened hallway. Her amaranthine eyes were dark and livid. She grunted in pain, unclenching her fists. Pieces of cracked sunglasses crumbled at her fingertips; she couldn't care less if her hands bled.

She saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye – she turned quickly.

A flash of… blue?

She shook her head violently, shaking the image out of her mind. It couldn't be him.

The blonde singer hurried down the stairs of the building. She wanted nothing more to do with this horrid place, nor that vile, revolting man. She just wanted to be free. She wanted everything to be normal again. She wanted to have a mother again.

…She wanted to see her brother again.

Then, a thought in her mind snapped. She stopped abruptly, almost stumbling over her heel. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it sooner.

It brought fire to her eyes.

_Amu Hinamori._

-0-0-0-0-

"…and then she called her mom! I could've sworn that I'd punch her in the face if she said one more word," Yaya exclaimed animatedly, pounding a fist into her hand.

Everyone laughed at Yaya's story. Amu leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of her iced caramel macchiato.

At this moment, in the midst of her childhood friends, she felt more relaxed than she'd felt in three days. The planning of the reunion was not at all as chaotic as she'd thought it would be. It was coming up at the beginning of December – about a week away. Tadase and Nagi had already sent out every invitation. Everything was taken care of, and it gave Amu a distinct sense of refreshment and contentment that she hadn't felt in a long time.

She stared dreamily at the rain pelting the window, and a low rumble resounded through the café. She cringed.

She'd _never_ dealt well with thunderstorms.

Beside her, Nagihiko stared down at his phone. Amu looked up at his face – he looked slightly troubled.

"Something wrong, Nagi?" She whispered lowly, opting out of her friends' conversation.

He looked up at her, smiling ruefully.

"Apparently I'm needed at the school – Mother's sprained her back dancing again."

Amu took one look at his soft brown eyes, brimmed with worry, and felt an instantaneous pain in her heart for her friend.

"Do you want me to sign you out for the day at the office?" She asked tenderly.

An instant look of worry clouded his face.

"But how will you get back?"

"I'll take the bus, of course," she chuckled.

Nagi shook his head, looking stressed and tired again.

"No, you can't. Not in this weather. Besides, the city isn't safe… for you…"

He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

He looked distraught, and concerned. Amu's carefree mood disappeared. Everything came rushing back to her at a painful speed.

Guns, thugs, blood – everything.

_Could she ever walk the streets safely again?_

Amu shook her head, plastering a smile across her face.

"I'll be okay, I prom –" She caught herself, facing the painful reality. "…I'll be fine, Nagi. You don't need to worry about me so much."

"Yes, I do…" He muttered distressingly under his breath.

"What was that?"

He shook his head, smiling ruefully, and staring at his phone screen.

"What's wrong, Nagihiko?" Tadase suddenly cut in.

Nagi sighed, glancing at Amu, and flipping his phone shut. The secret was out.

"It seems my mother's injured herself again," he sighed.

A worried expression instantly came across the group's faces.

"Uh-oh," Kuukai said, leaning forward. Even he looked genuinely concerned.

"You'd better get home to her," Rima inputted solemnly, looking worried as well.

Rima's reaction surprised Amu – generally she kept silent about all things pertaining to Nagihiko, simply because she didn't like his carefree spirit. She also felt a twinge of jealousy toward him, simply for spending as much time with Amu as she did.

She seemed to have put that complex aside temporarily, and expressed her vehement concern toward Nagi and his mother.

Amu looked at him solemnly, smiling caringly.

"I can get back just fine, Nagi," she said quietly. "You need to go help your mother."

"We'll all probably be heading out soon, anyway," Tadase contributed warmly.

Nagi sighed again, running a hand through his bangs. He gave Amu one remorseful glance, and finally, he stood up, placing his cell phone in his back pocket and grabbing his jacket.

"Alright, then. I'll see you all soon?"

"Bet on it," Kuukai winked.

"Bye-bye, Nagi! Say hello to your Mama for me! I hope she gets better!" Yaya squealed.

"Yes, send her our regards," Rima commented quietly, once again surprising everyone.

Nagi smiled at the group, and turned toward Amu. He leaned over to her ear, and whispered quietly,

"Be careful out there, okay?"

Amu smiled, and nodded.

"Okay."

"Oh, and one more thing –"

Nagi straightened his back, looking her directly in the eyes with a reprimanding smile and solemn brown eyes.

"…Don't hold it in until it's too late."

Amu's gaze locked with his momentarily, and her smile faded.

She had nearly forgotten.

…Ikuto.

Just thinking of the name sent shivers up her spine.

Her gaze darted to the ground, and out of the corner of her eye, Nagihiko walked out of the café, giving the group a nonchalant wave and a carefree smile.

He left Amu with the sudden burden of Ikuto.

She glanced around at the laughing group of her lifelong friends, studying their faces carefully.

The all-too-familiar ache in her chest began pulsating against her ribs.

And more than anything in her twisted mind, she was sure of one thing –

She couldn't tell them. Not yet, at least.

She wasn't ready to face them with the shocking information. She knew an opportunity would come eventually, and now was just not the time. She almost wished there was nothing to hide from her friends. But at the same time, she felt happier now that Ikuto was back.

She cursed herself mentally.

_You're such a scatterbrain, Amu. _

The heavy feeling pitted itself in her stomach, and she squirmed in her seat uncomfortably.

She resolved –

_I'll tell them later._

– but felt no sense of resolve.

"Well, I should probably be heading back to my flat," Kuukai said, stretching obnoxiously and patting his stomach. "Tucker's probably dancing in his pants."

"Tucker doesn't wear pants, Kai," Amu stated flatly, and the group giggled.

Kuukai glanced at her abruptly, and Amu was slightly taken aback by the expression on his face. He smirked deviously.

She assumed the worst.

She gave him the most venomous glare she could muster.

_He didn't. _

"I don't know, Amu. He looked pretty uncomfortable when I left him in _your_ room."

_He did!_

Amu gaped at him incredulously.

_How the hell are cat-man and Clifford the Big Stupid Carnivore supposed to be in the same room without killing one another?_

Kuukai simply smirked in triumph, and stood to leave. As he walked out the door, Amu gave him no good-bye – she gave him a well-deserved death glare.

_Oh, Kuukai. You will **die **tonight. _

The remainder of the group stood from their seats, glancing at the tumultuous weather and deciding it was best to go their separate ways. They said their goodbyes, and left a tip on the table, walking to the front of the mellow café and out the spiraling door.

The burst of cold wind hit them like an explosion. Their breath came out in white, cloudy tufts, and their noses and cheeks turned a rosy red.

The four stood beneath the awning of the café, staring with chagrin at the loud, boisterous rain. It tumbled in buckets from the roofs to the sidewalks, creating dangerously deep puddles, just beckoning Amu to ruin her gorgeous purple pumps in.

She jumped at a loud clap of thunder.

Amu cursed the weatherman.

_Why…? On a day that you have to ride the bus, for goodness' sake!_

Angry businessmen and women stood impatiently beneath the awnings of various structures, and Amu felt a twinge of pity for them.

"It's like a hurricane or something!" Yaya squealed in delight.

Amu groaned.

Only Yaya would speak of hurricanes in a delighted squeal.

She, on the other hand, _hated_ thunderstorms. With a _feverish_ passion.

Yaya and Rima (who apparently rode together) said their final goodbyes to Amu and Tadase, wishing them luck in braving the turbulent thunderstorm, and dashed as quickly as they could run in heels to Rima's silver Eclipse.

Amu _absolutely_ felt stupid now.

She should've gone to Mrs. Fujisaki's school with Nagi.

But no, she had to make a mad dash to the nearest bus stop, get on, get off again and make a mad dash to her cursed work place, only to sit and wallow in her wet clothes for the rest of the day. She couldn't believe she'd been stupid enough to leave her umbrella at the office.

"Well, can I walk you to your car, Amu?" Tadase's gentle voice suddenly cut in to her malicious thoughts.

She looked at him, smiled grimly in spite of it all, and said,

"Oh, that's alright, I'm taking the bus back to work."

Tadase's sweet smile immediately molded into a frown.

"In this weather?"

She shrugged meekly.

"Nagi _was_ my ride back." She sighed, stuffing her quivering hands in her pockets. "It's fine, really, I do it all the time."

Tadase stared at her blankly.

"Amu, I can give you a ride back to your office," he stated as if she should know already.

She waved her hands obnoxiously in front of her face, and shook her head, laughing nervously.

"No, no, really, you don't have to do that."

She knew she was blushing, and that caused her to do rash things.

_No, Amu, you __**want**__ a ride!_

"It's freezing out here, Amu, and I know how much you hate the cold."

She continued to shake her head, watching Tadase open his black umbrella, thinking one thing and saying the other.

"No, honestly, I don't want to cause you any trouble – your work place is on the opposite side of town, and I wouldn't want you to be late! I do this all the time, really!"

Tadase looked at her with his soft, ruby eyes, smiling and holding the umbrella over her head.

"Well, you're not doing it _this_ time."

And at that moment, Amu finally gained control of her chaotic mind, synchronizing her thoughts with her words, and remaining silent, allowing Tadase to lead her through the pouring rain, to his silver Cadillac.

She could _feel_ her hair gaining frizz again.

Did she mention she _hated_ curl?

**Hated** it.

He opened the car door for her, and she muttered a soft 'thank-you', slipping into his sleek leather car.

Just the thought of the heat this car could produce gave her goose bumps. _Good_ _ones_.

_Amu, you have _got_ to get yourself a car. _

Tadase slipped into the driver's seat, his hair slightly damp from his attempt to close the umbrella outside the car. Amu let out a teeth-chattering giggle as he tossed the soaked umbrella into his back seat, and ruffled his picturesque blonde hair with his hand.

Then, he turned the car on, and Amu felt the most wonderful feeling –

_Heat…_

"Oh, sweet warmth…" she muttered, slipping off her raincoat to dry.

Tadase laughed a melodious laugh, and sped out into the streets of Seiyo City.

The warm drive was pleasant, and Amu was entirely thankful that Tadase had been so persistent in driving her back to that cold, wretched place she called work. He asked her how her job was going, and she asked him likewise; they spoke about the weather, new movies in theaters, the economy, friends, new books – everything under the sun. Amu wasn't feeling particularly chatty, but she always enjoyed talking to her friend Tadase, and it cheered her up in the dark, dreary weather.

Also, it kept her mind off the thunder. Eventually, she couldn't even hear it anymore, and the rain died down to a slow, steady downpour.

When the conversation had stopped, and Amu stared out the window at the grey skies, only one image was on her mind.

Midnight indigo eyes. Shining blue hair. A slick, handsome grin.

_**Jeez**__, Amu, would you stop that?_

_It makes you sound like you're obsessed with him again! _

Finally, the Cadillac pulled up swiftly to the curb beside Kyoko Magazine Company, and Tadase turned off the rumbling engine, causing Amu's toasty warmth to leave her abruptly.

She cringed, immediately feeling the sting of the cold outside.

_Curse you, autumn._

Before Amu could open her own door, Tadase reached into the back seat, and pulled out the slightly damp black umbrella. He got out of the car, and Amu waited patiently (and somewhat stupidly) for him to dash around to the passenger side.

She sighed.

He was _way_ too polite for his own good.

Tadase opened her car door, and extended his hand for Amu to grasp. She accepted it with a blush and a smile, whispering a 'thank-you' under her breath.

At the door to her office building, Amu smiled with a shivering jaw.

"Thanks for th-the ride, I r-really appreciate it."

"No problem. I was glad to do it."

He smiled his dazzling smile, and for fleeting moments, Amu felt the same heart-pounding flutter in her chest as she'd felt all throughout elementary. Not because she still loved him, of course, but… well…

He _was_ handsome.

Very, _very_ handsome.

His soft rose-colored eyes glinted with a ruby sparkle – they hadn't changed since school. _Enchanting_. His smile was lighthearted and pearly-white, and his skin was pale and flawless, luminous even on a cloudy day. He was nice, too. Polite, _very_ polite, and very encouraging to Amu. People said the two of them were the ideal couple – that they complemented each other perfectly.

But something in Amu's mind wouldn't believe them.

She didn't know why… but nothing could make her feel romantic feelings toward Tadase like she had in elementary. Something in her mind prevented her, and she lost count of how many times she'd actually _tried_ to love him, simply forcing herself to get her mind off of a certain blue-haired, cat-like renegade.

But ever since he'd come back, romantic feelings toward Tadase hadn't even crossed her mind.

_Now why is that, Amu?_

"I guess I should be getting inside. My boss is probably raving her head off about why I'm not in my office," Amu rolled her eyes.

Tadase laughed good-naturedly, nodding to Amu and walking over to his silver car on the side of the road.

"I'll see you soon, Amu. Take care," he yelled over the slight downpour beginning to fall again.

"You too, Tadase!" Amu yelled back, with a smile and wave.

She opened the door to her office building, stepping inside, when a voice beckoned her again.

"Amu!"

She whirled around, and saw Tadase smiling from the driver's side of his car.

"You…" He scratched his head shyly. "Your hair looks beautiful that way."

Amu was shocked.

_Curly? It looked… beautiful? _

She made a mental note.

She blushed, hoping it wasn't noticeable in the bitterly cold weather. She smiled, and waved one last time, watching him zip speedily down the street in his silver sports car. She whirled around, walking into the lobby of the building with a queer smile and distant eyes.

She vaguely heard Miki Hayashi speaking to her… something like,

"… look like you just found out you were pregnant or something. You okay? Wait – is it a man? Oh, my god, is it that hunky blonde-haired – uh, Amu…?"

She wasn't listening. She was clip-clopping to her office in her dry purple pumps, feeling a unique warmth on her cheeks and happiness in her heart as she entered her dark, dreary office.

She loved her friends.

Absolutely loved them.

The rest of the day at Kyoko Magazine went by slowly, but Amu managed to drag herself through with a few encouraging texts from various friends.

Thoughts of Ikuto plagued her mind with worry, but she forced herself to postpone the concern until she got home.

She failed, however, allowing them to plague her cluttered mind as she dashed to her apartment from the cursed bus stop. The bumpy, cracked cement of the sidewalk threatened to break the thin heel on her purple pumps, but she avoided the potholes skillfully. She breathed a heavy, heavy sigh when she saw the familiar, graffiti'd, crooked, bent and broken street sign that she felt entirely different about now –

Eclipse Lane.

Home, sweet home.

She dashed up the steps, and burst through the door like there was no tomorrow. Panting heavily, she slammed the door behind her, leaning against it in a red-nosed, rosy-cheeked fluster.

She stopped panting, breathing slowly through her nose, calming her wrought-up nerves. But when she did, she heard something. Something distinctive, something unique, and dreadful all the same –

Coming from her room.

She walked up the stairs, slowly at first, then faster when the pang of realization hit her like a hurricane. She froze outside of her door, feeling an unmistakable queasiness in her throbbing head. She dug out her keys from her purse and franticly pressed them into the keyhole, muttering curses under her breath to the retarded broken doorknob.

She burst through the door. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was slightly agape.

There, on the head of her couch, sat the lean, toned figure of Ikuto, clutching a white object beneath his chin and moving his arm back and forth in a smooth motion. Tucker, the golden retriever, lay motionless on the ground, his chin relaxed on the wood floor and his abdomen rising and falling slowly.

A low, ominous yet melodious sound echoed through Amu's ears with every smooth motion of Ikuto's right arm.

It almost brought tears to her eyes. She was over whelmed with emotion, and she couldn't quite place it.

But with every stroke, every note, every vibrated tone, Amu's head spun with memories and her insides twisted with pain.

_That cursed racket. _

_That blasted instrument. _

_…That horrid __**violin**__. _

Tucker raised his head instantaneously when she walked in the room. His tail wagged, and his tongue hung out lazily as he smiled at her. He stood and trotted over to her, and the music abruptly stopped. Ikuto stood, his back facing her.

Amu couldn't find her voice.

_How… the **hell**_**_… _**_did he get that?_

Her vocal chords were strained with pure shock. She swallowed, and managed to contain the shakiness – nonetheless, her voice was hoarse and weak.

"H… h-how did you…?"

He finally turned around, and stared at her with serious eyes, and said simply,

"I got it back."

Amu mentally smacked herself in the face, and managed to pull herself together enough to close her gaping jaw.

"H-how?" She questioned incredulously. "I thought you didn't want them to find you!"

Ikuto suddenly flashed his sickeningly handsome smirk, and Amu's gut twisted further.

"You underestimate me, Amu."

The way he said her name sent chills up her spine. She shivered lightly, convincing herself that it was just her wet coat. She shed the sopping wet rain coat, and bent over to shake out her damp pink hair. She slipped off her purple pumps, and launched herself onto the leather couch, sighing heavily. Ordinarily, this was the part where she would cuddle up with Tucker after work and watch her soaps – however, one vital part of that plan was missing – Tucker himself. Amu was surprised to see him trot over to Ikuto, sniff him once, and lay down bluntly on the ground beside him.

_Great. Now he's brainwashed my dog. _

She eyed him suspiciously, before throwing her dainty bare feet over the arm of the couch and lying back, sinking into the plush leather of the couch. She heard Ikuto sit on the other couch, and rubbed her temples soothingly.

"Looks like you two had some male bonding time while I was out," she said lowly, tempted to smirk.

"Looks like _you_ had some _romantic_ bonding time while you were out," he fired back.

Amu shot up, and whirled around abruptly, glaring venomously at the smirking violinist.

"Shutup. Tadase and I just friends."

"Oh? I didn't say a word about Tadase."

"Well, you were thinking it," she growled, leaning back into the couch again.

"Bad day at work?" He mocked.

"No. My day was lovely. Contrary to _yours_."

"Well, see, I don't have the need for a job. I live for free."

"Which is exactly why I should be making you pay to hide from the law here."

"Doesn't sound like you're making any complaints, _Amu_."

"Shutup. You leave my life alone, I'll leave yours."

"Fine."

"Fine."

There was a low grumble from the sky, filling the tense, awkward silence of the dim apartment. It occurred to Amu that the lighting was very dark and ominous, only adding to her inner fear of thunderstorms. She cringed.

A dark apartment. A sadistic, perverted cat man. A loud, obnoxious thunderstorm.

Combination?

_Oh, dear __**Jesus**__, no. _

* * *

_(A/N) - uh-oh-spaghettios._

_hehe, bet your twisted little mind is looking forward to the next chapter ;)_

_if so, PLEASE press the review button. if you don't mind. _


	13. Let It Burn

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 12

* * *

"Quit it, Ikuto."

_Clink, clink, clink, clink –_

"**Ikuto**."

_Clink, clink, clink –_

"…Please."

Ikuto smirked deviously.

"My, my. Desperate, are we? You don't have to _beg_, Amu."

Amu looked up at him with an anger flashing in her golden eyes, portraying the irritation she'd felt since she got home from work. Ikuto had teased her, twisted her words, touched her, and teased her some more to her wit's end. But now…

_Now…_

He was _this_ _close_ to **death**.

"Shutup, pervert," she snapped monotonously, glaring at the fork in his hand, ready to strike if it touched the cursed plate again.

She was keeping her cool. She remained calm, she kept her composure in check, and she even attempted to ignore his stupidity. Little did she know, the stupidity of Ikuto was not to be ignored.

The stupidity of Ikuto was somehow… tempting. Which was exactly why Amu was getting so irately _annoyed_.

"Eat your food, moron," she demanded.

Like a mother. Like an angry mother to her bratty, perverted child.

Amu took one last bite of the macaroni and cheese in her bowl, before sighing and standing abruptly, setting her bowl on the floor for Tucker to finish. He faithfully trotted across the kitchen tiles, sliding in front of the bowl and licking the food up with satisfaction. Amu was amazed that he wasn't fat yet.

She began cleaning of the table, picking up the empty bowl in front of Ikuto, and avoiding his sadistic smirk. She felt his dark eyes boring holes into her flesh as she walked across the kitchen lithely, setting the dishes into the sink and flexing her legs habitually.

"You quit dancing," Ikuto stated lowly.

Amu looked up suddenly, immediately feeling a sense of strange panic.

_When would he stop keenly observing random facts about her?_

"…Why?" His low voice continued.

Amu thought for a moment, allowing a semi-sardonic smirk to come across her lips.

Yes, she'd quit dancing. She took it up with Yaya when she was in elementary, and she'd quit when she was sixteen. Funny, how all of her enjoyable pastimes were dropped around that time.

Some said she was a natural. Somehow, she had this vibrancy and energy that poured out of her when she danced. It was as if her character had changed completely; she was a whole new person. She felt an inexplicable happiness when she lost herself in that world – the world of ecstasy – but then, one day, everything changed.

Her life was flipped upside down, and from that day on, she danced no more. She gave up on happiness. She'd lost the energy, she'd lost the vibrancy, and she'd lost that wonderful world of dancing ecstasy, never to be found again.

All because of the man who was now asking her _why_ she'd given up.

"Didn't have time. I hated it, anyway," Amu lied.

Ikuto remained silent. Apparently it was convincing enough.

She washed the dishes thoroughly, blocking out the memories and the sudden tingle occurring at her feet. Her toes were pointed and her feet were arched, finding an inexplicable urge to do something she hadn't done in years – dance.

She hadn't felt that tingle in five years. Why now?

Suddenly, a low rumble resounded across the city, shaking her apartment walls and rattling the dishes. Amu cringed, and to her chagrin, very, _very_ visibly.

_Oh, no…_

Suddenly, she felt a tight, insistent embrace wrap around her waist, and was abruptly yanked back against a firm, warm body.

"Scared?" Echoed a husky whisper in her ear.

Amu stuttered, trying to squirm out of the annoying, warm, _annoying_ hold on her waist.

"N-no. That's so childish, moron."

"You never did seem quite as mature as others, Amu."

"Would you _shut_ _up_?" she squeaked angrily.

With a slight chuckle, the hold on her waist was released, and Amu snapped her gaze to the indigo-eyed culprit, smirking at her deftly.

"But it's so _fun_," he teased lingeringly.

Amu hesitated, but quickly recovered with a vicious sneer. She whirled around, breathing in and out slowly.

She remembered those words _oh_-so-well. He'd said that to her every day of her life when they had loved each other.

And every day, she blushed a deeper shade of red; somewhat like what she was blushing now.

"S-stupid."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes!" She snapped.

A loud growl erupted from the sky, nearly sending Amu off the ground. She gave a little jolt, however, and instantly regretted it. Ikuto laughed, walking into the living room, staring into her eyes with mischief. "Still not scared, Amu?"

"Definitely _not_. Is it so wrong to be startled by a loud noise?" She snapped.

_Yep. You sound real 'startled'. _

Ikuto let out a low laugh, and reclined on the long leather couch. Amu continued washing the dishes, and kept a close, careful eye on the sarcastic musician, simultaneously keeping the other eye carefully trained on the window of her dimly-lit apartment.

The rain was coming down in buckets again, and flashes of lightning flickered across the blackened night sky, making Amu's stomach clench tightly. She gulped.

Lightning was always a telltale sign of…

She jumped at the sudden _crack_ that vibrated her apartment room violently.

_Th-thunder…!_

Amu shuddered, maintaining her calmness and closing her eyes, so as to avoid seeing the vivid, intense flashes of lightning which foretold the loud claps of thunder.

Suddenly, one single resounding _crack_ shook the apartment violently, and immediately, the lights flickered faintly.

Amu let out a muted cry. She clung to the kitchen counter for dear life, closing her eyes and noting the sudden change of light behind her eyelids.

Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes... to blackness.

Blackness.

Fear and irritation suddenly found itself in the pit of her stomach.

_…A power outage? __**Seriously**__?_

"God, stupid –"

_CRACK_.

Amu let out a muted scream, and her heart nearly stopped. She grabbed the kitchen counter before her, sensing a shaky feeling coursing through her body. Her knees locked tightly, and her body stood rigid and stiff beside the kitchen counter.

She felt as if the lightning had stricken her directly.

The pitch blackness was closing in on her, sending swarms of horrible memories plaguing her conscience. She clenched her fists, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the stinging memories, only to quake with fear at the next clap of thunder.

"Oh God," she breathed, "m-make it stop…"

Suddenly, Amu jumped faintly when her small body was yanked forward adamantly into a tight embrace. Arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly, yet gently and warmly. Only one man was capable of making her lose her own breath. Her cheek pressed against his pectorals, his arms wrapped gently around her hair.

Amu stopped whimpering. She was too shocked to make a sound.

"Don't move," Ikuto's low voice resounded from above her. "You'll hurt yourself."

Having trouble speaking, Amu simply nodded into his chest, breathing in the familiar, musky scent of the catlike boy. She heard a low growl of thunder, and a flash of light illuminated the darkness of the apartment, but Amu was not stirred.

She didn't jump; she didn't even tremble. Something within her felt safe in Ikuto's arms.

Her heart no longer felt heavy and pained – every ache within her was replaced with vibrant butterflies. She closed her eyes, and breathed in the moment. Her head swirled with emotion and more feeling than she could comprehend. She couldn't see him, but she knew that he'd never leave her – his embrace was firm and affectionate. She missed his embrace so much.

For once in so long, everything felt right.

Everything felt… perfect.

Then…

"Whoa, this is _freaky_, dudes!"

Amu's eyes snapped open.

**Kuukai**…

Ikuto released his tight hold of Amu, and whirled around to face the voice. In the blackness, Amu could see nothing – all she was thinking about was the fact that Ikuto held her.

_Ikuto… held… __**her**__. _

Amu inwardly smacked herself.

_No, moron. Quit it. You sound like one of his obnoxious fans. _

But as hard as she tried to force the memory and the lingering tingle out of her system, she couldn't help but notice that his hand still clung tightly to her waist, as if protecting her from the thunder.

She nearly sighed. Why did the moment have to end?

Then, she remembered.

**Kuukai**…

There, in the blackness, Amu found the obnoxious redhead's grin illuminated by the light of his cell phone. He stood at her doorway, shining his cell phone directly at the blue and pink-headed couple.

"Heh, I almost tripped up the stairs. It's dark out there."

"I've got news for you," Amu grumbled through gritted teeth. "It's dark in here."

Thunder replied to her quip, sending a shock of fear sizzling down Amu's spine. She cringed, and to her surprise, the grip on her waist tightened. It was as if Ikuto was saying, "don't be afraid," without speaking a word.

Just the thought made her heart flip.

Then she remembered the red-head in the doorway, and the feeling sank.

**Kuukai**…

"Anyhoo, can I borrow some candles, Amu?" the red-head's familiar smirking voice rang out through the darkness.

Amu sighed heavily, trying to conceal her inward flustered frustration. Frustrated at the fact that Ikuto grabbed her in his gangly claws, and thankful that Kuukai had interrupted when he did.

And yet…

The other side of her was frustrated at Kuukai for interrupting the most romantic emotion Amu had felt bubbling inside her for years.

_Either way_…

**Kuukai**…would die tonight.

"Yeah," Amu sighed between clenched teeth, "they're in the cabinet. You've got the flashlight."

Kuukai moved to the kitchen, shining his flashlight on Amu and Ikuto directly. Amu felt fleeting disappointment when Ikuto's arm slipped away from her waist.

Luckily, Kuukai's obliviousness overpowered his common sense, and the pair's suspicious behavior escaped unnoticed. Kuukai helped Amu and Ikuto light candles throughout the small apartment room, casting a dull glow on the pitch black space. Amu felt slightly more comforted by the soft glow; nevertheless, she gave a slight jump with every _growl_, _bark_, and _crack_ of thunder that the angered sky sent to earth.

Kuukai said his farewells, claiming that he had some 'business to carry out on the bottom floor'.

He winked at her, clearly and vividly illuminated by his obnoxiously bright flashlight.

Amu rolled her eyes. Cheeky bastard_._

He closed the door, and once again, Amu felt that hollow fear pit itself in her stomach. She lazily snatched her cell phone from the counter, and held it up – 8:40. She let out an inward, frustrated sigh, clearing her throat and speaking as firmly as possible.

"It's late, anyway. I guess we should just try to get some sleep."

"You don't have to try to hide it all."

The sudden response left Amu bewildered, almost fearful as to what he meant. She whirled around, and just barely made out his pale, luminous skin in the dim candlelight.

"What did you say?" She uttered incredulously.

His face became less visible with every step he took toward her. His quiet footsteps were drowned out by the heavy downpour, and eventually, Amu completely lost sight of him. A wave of nausea overcame her, and her breathing pattern sped. _Just what did he mean by that?_

"Ikuto…?" She whispered, solely for the purpose of calming her nerves.

Another crack of thunder interrupted the peace of the rain, and Amu lost control of her composure. She jumped, let out a muted scream, and shivered uncontrollably in the darkness.

She didn't know exactly what led her to behave this way during thunderstorms – it all started in her childhood, and since then, memories of that moment haunted her. She felt as if thunder and lightning threatened her – taunted her with the fact that she was alone.

She tried to shudder, but was prohibited by a firm hold around her arms. Amu looked up, astonished to find Ikuto's face inches from hers.

Then, his breath upon her face, he whispered three words, quieter than rain –

"You're not alone."

And she understood.

Her tenseness relaxed. Her heartbeat fell silent. Her breathing slowed, almost non-existent. She fell limp in his arms. He held her tightly, unremittingly, around her torso, ready and waiting for her to fall. And for once, Amu wasn't afraid to fall.

Thunder became silent – the only thing she could hear was the blood thumping through her ears. Surely he could hear her heartbeat.

But she didn't care.

The slow, steady pattern of his breathing lulled her eyes closed, and she breathed in deeply. His scent was intoxicating. His embrace was so warm.

Everything about this moment made Amu smile.

The fact that she swore she'd never fall for him again. The fact that she'd always hated it when he'd hold her too close, because she feared her cheeks were flushed like a tomato. The fact that his scent made her dizzy. The fact that his deep indigo eyes were like vacuums, pulling her deeper and deeper into his innermost thoughts.

However, she couldn't help but think that this was how it ought to be.

Suddenly, the warmth faded. Her smile vanished. She opened her eyes.

_…Ikuto?_

Her body felt bare and revealed. Her skin felt cold. And very quickly, her fear of darkness began to overwhelm her once more. She froze into a state of rigid panic, ready and waiting for the thunder to pierce the fabric of her composure.

But instead of thunder… very faintly, Amu heard the low, colorful tone of a violin.

She shivered, listening to the instrument live for the first time in years.

But she didn't recoil. She didn't cover her ears. She didn't block out the sound.

In fact, the musical sound made her stomach flutter.

She searched the blackness intently, and found Ikuto reclining against the wall, arm poised in the air. The bow in his hand moved gently and slowly across the strings, creating a vibrated tone that sliced through Amu's head. She felt as if she was being taken to another world – Ikuto's world.

It was then that something struck her. Hard.

She trembled – blissfully.

_This song_… _Clair de Lune?_

* * *

"This place smells like old," 15-year-old Amu wrinkled her nose in a curious fashion. "Where are we, anyway?"

Ikuto simply smirked.

"You'll see."

"But I _can't_ see!" She whined, tugging on the blindfold surrounding her eyes.

"You will."

"When?"

In one swift motion, Ikuto scooped the curious girl into his arms with ease, and continued walking.

"Quit being so impatient, Amu."

"Ikuto!" She whined angrily, pushing against his hold with all her might.

She gave up struggling, and folded her arms in a fluster.

"Jerk," she huffed.

"You wouldn't have it any other way."

She scoffed defiantly, protruding her jaw and glaring behind blindfolded eyes. However, her curiosity grew stronger with every step her captor took into the ancient-smelling wonderland.

Suddenly, a blast of crisp, fresh air hit her full-force, immediately arousing her senses. She was dying to simply rip off the blindfold, were it not for her undying reputation of being "impatient". Birds chirped and sang all around her, and leaves rustled in the cool spring breeze. The sound of trickling water tickled her alert ears. Amu's curiosity was at its climax.

"Where are we now?" She asked in a far-off whisper, intrigued even without her sight.

Finally, Ikuto slowly let her onto the ground, holding her waist tightly. He gently slipped the scarf from her eyes, and placed his hands on her chin, lifting up her head.

"Here."

Amu's breath was taken away.

The vivid greenery took her eyes by surprise, and the ancient-looking grey stone gave the breathtaking courtyard a castle-like appearance. Flowers of every shape and color flooded the lush, green grass, making the colorful scene all the more vibrant. The fountain in the center of the courtyard spouted water in several different directions, all trickling into the crystal-clear pool along the stone. Amu felt like she was in a fairytale.

"Where… how…?"

"The courtyard," Ikuto answered plainly, amused by her bewilderment.

Amu finally looked at him, smiling at the distant look cascaded across his normally tense features.

"My dad gave me my first violin lesson here. I'd play for my mom on summer days, when she was well."

Amu smiled. She could always tell when Ikuto was reminiscing or thinking; but this was the first time he made it so obvious.

"This place means a lot to you, doesn't it?" She whispered.

Ikuto simply smiled. A real, genuine, heartfelt smile.

Amu was astonished. She couldn't help but feel butterflies in her chest. She followed his soft gaze to the courtyard, and couldn't help but smile widely.

"It _is_ beautiful," she breathed, swept away by the magic of it all.

She felt arms wrap around her waist, pressing her back into a warm embrace.

"Yes," a deep whisper tickled her ear, "you are."

Amu looked up, instantly captivated by the fervor and passion in his indigo eyes.

A blush crept upon her face, and a sly smirk broke Ikuto's romantic stare.

"Stop it!" She barked, blushing feverishly.

"I can't help it," he chuckled, nuzzling his neck into hers. "It's irresistible."

The two basked in each other's warmth, serenaded by the lullaby of the chirping birds, the trickling water, and the gentle breeze. Ikuto planted small, gentle butterfly kisses across her neck, and Amu shivered blissfully.

"Ikuto?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" He mumbled into her neck.

She smiled softly, closing her eyes as his breath tickled her skin.

"…Will you play for me?"

* * *

_…Will you play for me?_

Amu's mind stood frozen in the memory.

The song flooded her ears, reverberating in her mind and echoing through her heart. Every inch of her body wanted to… move. Wanted to be free.

Wanted to… _dance_.

And as the violin struck a low note, she gently eased her leg forward, arching her back delicately.

She laid a hand on the kitchen counter, and slowly lifted her leg into the air, stretching it high and arching her toes, pointed to perfection. She took one look at Ikuto's serene, firm features, illuminated by candle light, and lost all sense of discernment – she _needed _to be free.

She _needed _to dance.

She began twirling, moving across the wood floor like a paintbrush across a canvas. The thunder became a part of the orchestra; the lightning became ambient illumination. The violin's tone rose and fell, and Amu matched its inflections with her body - she knew this piece all too well. She closed her eyes and breathed in.

She could smell the fresh air and the ancient aroma. She could feel the cool breeze that blew through her hair. She could see the cobblestone, the bright greenery, the beautiful flowers… and the breathtaking fountain.

And with that image in her mind, she smiled.

For the next forever, Ikuto played for Amu, never ceasing to pour out his soul into the white violin. He never played half-heartedly – especially not for her.

He watched her carefully, taking in every detail, engraving it into his memories forever. The way her thin, delicate figure arched to perfection with every twirl; the blissful expression cascaded across her face that he hadn't seen in years; the dim candle light that glowed upon her luminous, soft skin.

He cursed himself; took a step back.

_Restrain_.

Suddenly, before either of them could blink, the door slammed against the wall of the apartment. The bow screeched across the strings. The dancer halted with embarrassment.

The violinist and the dancer just stared, dumbfounded.

"…Utau?"

A flash of bright, luminous blonde flew in Amu's direction, and before she could comprehend what was going on, she raised her hand into the air and caught a firm, balled fist.

Amu was in shock.

_Since when were your reflexes so quick, Amu?_

The narrow, fiery glare in Utau's amethyst eyes startled her. Amu did a double-take over the situation, occurring faster than a blink.

She almost believed she was hallucinating, were it not for the very real singing star pressing against Amu's palm with her own fist, glaring into her eyes.

Did Utau just attempt to… attack her?

"…Utau, what are you –"

Suddenly, Utau yanked Amu forward by the collar of her oversized shirt that once belonged to her father. Amu immediately reacted, smacking Utau's furious grasp away with the back of her hand.

Amu's eyes widened with panic, shrinking beneath the intensity of Utau's glare.

It had all happened so fast, Amu didn't know what to think. Why was Utau so livid? The burning, angry expression engraved into her eyes was the exact same look she wore five years ago, every time Amu met her gaze. They had been enemies back then – but that was all over with now. Now, Utau was one of Amu's closest friends.

So _why_… was she so angry? Why did she try to attack her?

Amu inhaled sharply, stepping back quickly, stalked by Utau, pointing a finger in her face.

"Where is he?" Utau growled, forcing Amu's body to slam tightly against the wall. "Tell me where he is!"

"Utau," Amu breathed, just as angry as the blonde, "what's wrong with you?"

The idol's expression turned into one of sheer panicked anguish, and she shoved Amu's shoulder against the wall that she was already pressed up against. Amu's head throbbed with the sudden slam against the wall - the breath was knocked out of her. She couldn't recover fast enough to defend herself.

_What the – Amu, you __**moron**__! It's not a fight!_

"Utau, please, let me –"

"Don't even _try_ to explain, Hinamori!" The blonde spat. "I thought I could trust you!"

Suddenly, a firm grasp clamped itself onto Utau's arm. The blonde idol suddenly grew deathly pale, and her eyes went from narrow and livid to wide and frightened.

She looked up, startled beyond beief.

There he was. There, in front of her.

Ikuto Tsukiyomi.

_Her brother._

"Utau." His deep voice rang out. "…Stop it."

Ikuto glared at her with a fire she didn't recognize. She didn't like it.

She didn't like the tone he was using with her, either. Who does he think he is? Her father? And why the hell was he standing in front of Amu so protectively?

_Could he –_

She froze.

_No_. _It couldn't be. _

"Utau –" Amu started, voice shaking.

"Don't you **dare** address me so informally." Utau's sharp tone cut deeply into Amu's heart.

Utau instantly shrunk back, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth, fighting the tears welling up in her angry amethyst eyes. _It's not true. He can't… _

_He can't love her more than me. _

She looked up, quick and painless, meeting her brother's eyes directly.

She read them like a page.

An instantaneous ache settled in her chest.

No.

_No_…

No, _no_, _**no**_!

"After all this time…" she whispered, voice cracking, trembling with anger. "You still can't accept me…?"

Amu lifted up her quivering hand, but Utau slapped it away, screaming lividly,

"What have you done to him? You… y-you lying little –"

"**Utau**."

The deep, firm voice of Ikuto was enough to make the tears flow.

Utau glanced with frightened eyes at Ikuto's face once more, and spoke no further – she whirled around, and ran as fast as she could out of that cursed black candlelit apartment, into the thunder and rain.

"No, Utau, wait! Please!"

_Curse you, Amu._

_**Damn **you, Ikuto_.

* * *

_(A/N/) - fweee angry Utau!_

_i relied heavily on the usage of the song "Louder than Thunder" by the Devil Wears Prada for this chapter. _

_freakin' awesome song. _

_alrighty, review time, yes?_


	14. Death Of Me

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 13

* * *

"Utau?" Amu yelled. "WAIT!"

Amu didn't know what was going on.

All she knew was that Utau was _not_ allowed to get away.

Without thinking, Amu flung herself into the lobby, overwhelmed by the sudden blackness. Kuukai was right – it was _dark_ out there.

She dove into the darkness, stumbling down the stairs, breath heavy and nerves shot.

Utau's expression scared her – the whole moment scared the _life_ out of her. Amu didn't know what she was doing, but she knew she had to do something. Utau had clearly misunderstood something – Amu was simply caring for Ikuto, nothing more, nothing less. When his wounds were healed, he would leave. Permanently. Out of her life forever.

_Right?_

Amu ran faster.

She prayed _so_ _hard_ that the blonde idol wouldn't kill her.

Amu burst out of the apartment, into the tumultuous rain. She frantically looked around, but saw no sign of Utau. Then she saw it – a bright flash of blonde in the midst of the sheets of grey rain. She turned, and without thinking, sprinted towards it, feeling the immediate effects of the storm she had just blindly thrown herself into.

Her clothes were drenched in a matter of seconds, and her breathing was labored in the bitter cold. To her sudden horror, a bright yellow taxi pulled up to the sidewalk amidst the deserted streets.

"UTAU!" She screamed above the roar of the rain. "**NO**!"

But the taxi pulled away too soon.

Amu stopped running, winded, watching the yellow taxi drive away, carrying her best friend – or so she thought once.

Everything was beginning to sink in, like a lump of lead on her back.

_What… just happened?_

Amu stood in the rain, trembling, arms hanging limp and fingers going numb. She wanted to break down and cry, and nothing was stopping her – until she heard a voice behind her.

"Amu."

She felt a sudden surge of blood through her veins, and a spurt of anger suddenly shot directly to her throat. She clenched her numb fist. Every poise left in her broke loose when she unleashed her voice into the storm.

"What, Ikuto? What? Is there something you want to say? Something _more_ you'd like to do to ruin my life?"

Amu whirled around, and glared venomously in the general direction of the vague silhouette standing beneath the awning of the sidewalk's edge.

"Did you see that, Ikuto? That was your sister - _goddammit_, your **sister**! She _saw _you!"

Her thoughts began running wild, and her speech became incoherent.

"I'm so… t-tired! Everything's just been a living hell in my life for s-so long, and then you c-came along and I..." She placed her head in her hands, and her breathing faltered. "I just can't k-keep doing this, I just can't keep living to be let down… I c-can't… I'm so, so t-t-tired…"

Her powerful scream had died down to a quiet, shaking whisper. She could barely hear herself above the torrential downpour, but she knew that she was faltering. She didn't care. She kept rambling, on and on, pouring out every sorrow, every detail, every crease and every crevice of her devastated life.

Her voice cracked and shook; and for the second time, tears began pouring down her cheeks.

Ikuto walked toward her, into the cold, pouring rain, and slowly wrapped his arms around her body, ignoring her persistent recoils and violent shivering. Amu felt his warmth envelop her body, and once again, she felt the overwhelming fear of falling for his touch –

But she didn't move. It was too late.

She had fallen already.

Her body fell limp in his embrace, numb to the core, frozen to the bone. He placed a gentle hand on the back of her soaked hair, and she finally buried her face into his chest, sobbing quietly. She shivered beneath his touch, as he moved his arm around her waist, holding her closely against his chest.

He was so…

_Warm_.

A loud crack of thunder made her jump in his arms, but he only held her tighter. He stroked her hair gently, cradling her in his arms, whispering in her ear gently. She closed her eyes.

In his embrace, she felt safe from the storm...

_Every_ storm.

-0-0-0-0-

Intense, narrow topaz eyes glared at Hoshina from the darkness.

"**What**… did you just say?"

Hoshina turned around in his chair, leaning his folded hands on his broad, black desk.

"You heard me. Fired."

A clap of thunder sent the bitter blow full-force, stabbing Misaki in the heart. Fists clenched, eyes narrowed and fiery – _venomous_.

"Mr. Hoshina, I –"

"Do not attempt to fool me, Misaki. I am not easily fooled. I've seen you sneaking about at night, communicating with that stupid stepson of mine, hiding his location from the world..."

Hoshina leaned forward, glaring bitterly into the darkness at his rebellious employee.

"I am growing weary of putting up with your lies. Be _gone_."

"I beg to differ, Mr. –"

"Do not beg, Misaki. I hate begging. Beggars make me want to _vomit_."

Misaki slammed a hand on the table, louder than a clap of thunder.

"It was _**not**_ **me**!"

Silence rang throughout the small office. Only the sound of the pouring rain echoed between the two vicious businessmen.

Hoshina whirled around in his chair once again, and it squeaked loudly as he stood to his feet, his silhouette outlined by the grey rain outside the window. He walked forward, directly to his employee. His bloodshot eyes cut through the darkness of the office, and sliced through Misaki's fear. He leaned down to his employee's ear.

"Then find me _who it __is,_" he growled.

Without another word, Misaki whirled around, and stalked quickly out of the dark office, fleeing Hoshina's bloodshot stare. Slamming the tall double doors, and clip-clopping quickly down the dark hallway.

"I want a full report on Yoru Nakamura," came the vicious snap. "_Stat_."

A tall man in a black suit and glasses trailed Misaki in her quick footsteps.

"But, may I interject, Miss –"

"Shutup, Seiichiro." She snapped lowly. "Do the report, now."

The bodyguard looked down, and pressed a finger to the Bluetooth device in his ear.

"Yes, Miss Misaki," he answered remorsefully.

"I want that idiot exposed – completely. I know what he's been up to; the traitorous bastard," Misaki clenched her fists with a wicked glare. "Find out every detail about his past, his present, and his goddamn future – I _want_ his **weakness**."

Misaki whirled around, and stopped Seiichiro dead in his tracks. She pressed a long, dainty fingernail to his suit jacket, trailing it lightly along his jaw. She pressed her body close to his, licking her glossed lips.

"Can you _do_ that for me, Seiichiro?"

The bodyguard gulped, cursing his weak resistance. He looked deeply into his boss's eyes – he saw nothing but topaz venom.

"Y-yes, Miss Misaki."

Without another word, Misaki whirled around, deep dark blonde hair flowing down her side, heels clapping against the tiled floors. She turned her head suddenly.

"Oh, and Seiichiro… don't screw up." She snapped her finger. "This is your last chance."

She walked away.

Slowly, Seiichiro brought a hand to his ear, and pressed a button on the Bluetooth device. He cleared his throat.

"Give me the name of that old cleaning woman."

He paused, and listened, still shaken.

"Izumi?"

Silence.

"…Izumi _Nakamura_. Even better. I see. Thank you."

Seiichiro lowered his hand, and turned around, walking down the long dark hallway slowly, gaining speed as he walked.

If there was one thing he'd learned at this cursed facility, it was how to manipulate. How to blackmail. How to expose. How to _destroy_.

He'd never forget the words of his boss - "_The easiest way to break a man is to find the source of his weakness_."

And Yoru Nakamura had the greatest weakness of all, right in the palm of Seiichiro's hand.

-0-0-0-0-

"Thank you." Amu's whisper came out dry and hoarse. Fragile and quivering.

However, it caught Ikuto's attention. He looked up, and stared at Amu's lifeless figure on the couch. Her strawberry pink hair was still damp and curled. Her strawberry pink lips were pressed together tightly, quivering with her jaw. Her honey-golden eyes were emotionless – fearful at most. Her dainty figure was wrapped in a heavy quilt, curled up on the black leather couch. Tucker walked up to her occasionally, nuzzling her hand, but Amu didn't even notice that he was there. She remained stoic, void of expression.

That was exactly how she had been for the past twenty minutes.

Ikuto had begun to wonder if she had been frozen in that permanent mold. But her small, hoarse whisper gave him some consolation.

Ikuto said nothing in response – only walked into the kitchen, picked up the steaming tea kettle from the stove, and poured it into a large mug. He placed a tea bag into the water, immediately dispersing swirls of flavor into the steaming clear liquid.

He walked into the living room, and brought the mug to Amu's lifeless figure on the couch. Her glazed stare was broken when she looked up at him, seemingly bewildered at the cup in his hand.

"No sugar," he said lowly, reassuringly.

And for some odd reason, those simple words reassured Amu completely.

She lifted her arms slowly, returning the blood flow to her poor frozen limbs. She wrapped her hands around the mug, and felt the warmth spread through her hands like a wonderfully warm, bittersweet remedy. She felt the brush of Ikuto's fingertip as she gingerly pulled the mug from his hands, and felt an extra touch of warmth as she brought the steaming dark liquid to her lips.

She took a small, dainty sip.

Immediately, her limp body was brought back to life.

Amu suddenly became very overwhelmingly aware that one of her best friends had just threatened her, and ran away without explanation. She also suddenly became aware that Ikuto was staring directly at her, from his standpoint by the window in her dimly lit apartment.

His navy blue, midnight eyes locked with hers tightly, unrelentingly. Amu felt a courage swell up inside her that she'd never felt before.

Built up anger, frustration, fear, aggravation…

Built up desire, attraction, passion, love…

Blend her colorful palette of emotions together, and what did she have?

"What are you… _doing _here?"

…An outburst of outrageous proportions.

"What… in the world… are you still doing here, Ikuto?"

Her voice was low and quiet, for her courage was quickly dwindling – every second that she suffered beneath his intense stare. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She looked down, and stared at the mug of tea in her quivering hands.

She breathed in, and held her breath.

_You have to let it go, Amu. _

_It's time to let go. _

"There's nothing for you here," she said quietly.

Ikuto remained silent, testing Amu's nerves. Her sanity was treading on thin ice, and if Ikuto didn't speak soon, Amu was sure to break. He stared at the skies of grey outside her window.

"I have my reasons." He said lowly, bluntly.

"_Reasons_?" Amu questioned, slightly angered. She set down her mug of tea on the table, and looked up at Ikuto. "What _reasons_, Ikuto? Why are you hiding from those people?"

Amu felt a cold shiver run through her body, and wrapped the blanket around her tighter. The silence of the room was more than she could take. Ikuto remained stoic, emotionless, staring at the grey skies. Amu clenched her fists.

"Of course, I don't expect an answer when I ask you a question, because you never give answers. I'll go on living with more questions than answers –"

"Those men tried to kill you, Amu."

Amu froze in place, and caught her tongue. She held her breath, staring at Ikuto in astonishment.

That night had been removed from her mind completely. Temporarily, every thought and memory of that fateful night had been forgotten, and Amu thought of nothing more than Ikuto's ignorance of her emotions.

_Amu… you __**idiot**__. _

"I… I-I… how… how do you know th-that?"

Ikuto looked down, finally, and remained emotionless. He said nothing – only gave Amu the most fervent, communicative, passionate look that she had ever received.

Amu felt like a fool. Furthermore, she felt frightened; she felt _hunted_. Ikuto had saved her life that night – now, he was trying to keep it safe. He was protecting her.

_But_…

No matter how hard she tried, Amu could not forget the look on Utau's face when she saw Ikuto, playing the violin in the corner of Amu's apartment.

She looked pained – distraught. Hurt. Amu could not excuse that. She breathed in once more, and held the drawn-in breath.

_You've got to let go, Amu. _

_You have to let him go. _

"That's no reason for you to stay here," Amu found herself saying. "I don't need a bodyguard, Ikuto, I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

She was surprised at the reluctance she found in her low, soft tone.

_Why is letting go so hard to do?_

"There are people out there who need you. You're a famous celebrity, for God's sake; you can't just take a break and lay low from your own _life_. Your family needs you – _Utau_ needs you."

Amu took a deep breath, convinced that she had struck a nerve somehow, despite the emotionless expression on Ikuto's face.

She refused, however, to believe that her own nerves had been struck by _his _words.

"Did you see the look on her face…?" She whispered, voice quivering.

"She can live without me."

"She's your _sister_, Ikuto! She's your goddamn **sister**!"

Amu stopped, surprised at how drastically her tone had risen. She sucked in a breath, and shrunk back into her warm quilt. Her voice deepened, and she let out a hesitant whisper –

"She needs you more than I do."

There. _Finally_.

She had done her deed, she had let it out – now, it was time to suffer the consequences…

_For Utau's sake. _

Amu heard complete silence. The rain had finally stopped, at least temporarily, and an occasionally growl of thunder erupted across the city. The dim, candlelit apartment was silent – dead silent. Not a breath was drawn, not a breath released.

Amu waited.

At any moment, she expected to hear the sound of footsteps, and the slamming of the front door. The footsteps came, and Amu felt her heart sink deep into her chest –

If she had needed Ikuto at anytime, it was right here, right now.

But she couldn't. His sister needed him. _You can't have him, Amu. _

_He is not yours to hold. _

Suddenly, Amu felt a cold, icy touch of flesh against her cheek. She looked up, only to be frozen completely in the glassy, midnight blue eyes staring directly into her soul.

Her breath was lost. His touch was electrifying against her cheek, and his lips nearly brushed hers, sending the tingling sensation all over her body. Her sunken heart had risen to her throat, beating madly. His luminous skin was less than inches from her face, glistening and shimmering in the candlelight – she felt an overpowering urge to touch it.

That was when she came to her senses.

"Ikuto –"

She tried to pull away, but he captured her cheek in his other hand, colder than ice.

"Say it again."

His low, melodious voice resounded through her ears, pulsating through her brain, causing her to tremble in the fingers.

She could hardly utter a sound.

"S-say w-what again…?"

"Say it to my face."

He moved his face closer, just when Amu had thought it impossible. His warm breath hovered over her quivering lips, arousing every dead nerve in her body. Her entire body shivered uncontrollably.

Everything within her was fighting – a war raged on inside her head and her heart.

_Go on, Amu – say it to his face. You do not need him._

_Shutup, Amu, shutup! You can't live without him! Don't let him leave again!_

She closed her eyes, breathing heavily and quietly, trying to slow down her rapid-moving thoughts.

_Amu, his sister needs him. You are just a fling he had five years ago. Let it go._

_Amu, if you let him leave you one more time, you will never find happiness again. How long do you want to keep living like this?_

Her trembling lips touched his, and she inhaled a sharp breath.

_Amu, you're in too deep! You have to back away, before it's too late!_

_I… I… I can't... _

_**AMU**__! _

"S-she… Utau n-needs… I d-don't…"

She choked on her voice.

She could not speak any further.

_**I**__ need you, Ikuto._

She lifted her quivering hand, and hesitantly touched his soft, silky, luminous face.

_I need you… desperately. _

She felt a cold finger touch her chin, and she shivered blissfully.

She breathed gently –

"...I need you."

- and leaned forward slowly.

Softly, ever-so-softly, her cold, quivering lips kissed his.

Every memory; every forgotten kiss, every loving embrace, every sunrise, every sunset, every day and night spent together came rushing back to them both at the speed of light. And in turn, those memories caused a reaction –

Suddenly, a vivid image flashed through Amu's mind.

_Blood. Gunshots. _

_**Blood**. _

She abruptly pulled herself back from him.

They stared at each other with mixed emotions.

Dark, midnight blue. Innocent, honey golden. Solemn, deep remorse. Wide, fearful shock.

And without another thought, Amu stood up, quivering, and ran into her room, slamming the door shut.

She fell upon the door, and slid down, shaking and quivering like never before. Her chest felt heavy. Her breath was shaking. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.

The darkness was swallowing her whole.

She buried her face in her quivering hands.

_What… have I done...?_

-0-0-0-0-

A knock came at Yoru's office door.

"Come in," he muttered, toying with his pen.

He was slightly surprised to see a petite, electric-blonde woman walk in slowly, taking her time to walk toward his desk with a strange, seductive stride.

"I didn't know devil-women knocked, Misaki." Yoru kicked his legs up on his desk, and placed his hands behind his head. "Try busting down the door next time; it's much more entertaining."

The lean, dainty woman placed her manicured hands gently on Yoru's desk, twirling circles in the black metal.

"I didn't come here to bicker, Nakamura. I came to…" she paused, and flicked her gaze up at him, smirking. "…negotiate."

Misaki walked slowly around his desk, hips swaying from side to side, keeping him entranced.

"Nakamura, I'm not blind. I, too, have keen senses, and I have noticed that you are far from happy here. I'm here to help."

She leaned against the side of his desk, and pushed her chest out slightly, bearing all the cleavage she had; she flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. She spoke lowly and seductively.

"I have _everything_ _you_ _want_. I have position and purpose, and I can give it all to you… for a small, minimal price."

Yoru simply sat there, emotionless, leaning back in his chair. Misaki seized the opportunity of his dazed state, and leaned over the desk.

She smirked deviously. She had him _hypnotized_.

Why, oh, why was this job so easy for her?

"I need to know something, _Yoru_," she whispered lowly, purposefully keeping him spellbound. "Somebody in this facility has been a bad boy; very, _very_ bad. Almost as bad as Tsukiyomi, that dumb lost kitty we're looking for. And I need… to find out… _who_ _that_ _is_."

She moved closer to him, and a few strands of long blonde hair fell against his chest. She placed her dainty hand on his leg.

"Can you help me, Nakamura?" She pleaded, smirking. "Because I have a very good idea who it is, I just can't be sure… I don't want to accuse the wrong one; that would be _naughty_."

She drew circles along his thigh with her long, manicured fingernail, traveling up, up, up.

"What do you say? Hm?"

Yoru smirked briefly, looking up at the woman now sitting on his lap.

"Get real. You really think I'm gonna fall for your bitchy games? You're not as sexy as you think, Misaki."

Faster than lightning, Misaki's venomous eyes stung into Yoru's soul. She stood up, slapped him hard, and put a hand to her ear.

"Bring it in," she snapped into the Bluetooth device.

In the blink of an eye, the door burst open, and a tall bodyguard in a black suit walked in slowly, dragging something on the ground –

Yoru's stomach wrenched in a knot.

"What are you doing…?"

"Does this strike a _nerve_, Nakamura?" Misaki snapped, like a poisonous viper.

On the floor, groaning in writhing pain, clutched by her fraying grey hair, an old woman looked up at Yoru with tears pouring down her wrinkled face.

"I'm so sorry, Yoru..." she cried.

Yoru clenched his fists.

"Let her **go **–!" He leapt over his desk, and charged toward the black-suited bodyguard.

A loud click resounded through the room, and a black shiny object glinted in the dim light, beside the old woman's head. Yoru froze. The old woman sobbed. Misaki smirked.

"Oh, how strong are the bonds between mother and son…" She laughed cynically, and immediately grew serious again. "How freaking _cute_."

Misaki twirled the black, shiny handgun in her dainty, manicured hands, pacing around the room, boring holes into Yoru with her venomous yellow eyes.

"I knew you two were related – but mother and son?" She snickered wickedly. "You make it all too easy for me, Nakamura."

"Yoru, my baby, I'm so sorry –"

"Shutup," Misaki snapped.

Misaki abruptly slapped the old woman in the face, silencing her immediately.

Yoru clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails into his skin. His eyes were filled with hatred toward the wretched woman. Misaki directed her glare to Yoru, wiping the sadistic smirk off her face, holding the gun in her hand.

"Tell me where Tsukiyomi Ikuto is."

"My mother had nothing to do with –"

"TELL ME." She moved the gun directly to his mother's temple.

Izumi Nakamura raised her head, face red and swollen, tears pouring down her face.

"Don't tell them anything –"

Misaki suddenly raised the gun into the air, bringing the heel down upon the old woman's head, striking her to the ground.

"Shutup, old hag."

Yoru growled angrily, shooting forward with anger and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"You WITCH –"

"Idiot."

_Bang_.

Yoru dropped to the ground with a loud cry.

His hands were immediately bound. His chest was kicked swiftly, knocking the breath out of his lungs. His leg was numb, dripping with red blood, staining the white carpet.

"Take him to the basement," came a muted female voice from somewhere in the room. "Get it out of him. I don't care how, just _make_ _him_ _talk_."

His vision was blurred, and he could not hear his own voice as he screamed.

"Mother… Mother, NO!"

"I love you, Yoru…"

"**NO!**"

_Bang._

-0-0-0-0-

"Clean this up, Seiichiro. Make sure he has no provisions for at least two days, and make sure he suffers for his foolish actions."

"Yes, Miss Misaki."

"That idiotic bastard knows something, and I want it out of him. I will not forfeit this opportunity because of a single stubborn man."

"Yes, Miss Misaki."

"Make up a good alibi for a change. This was all just a horrible, fatal accident that could not be prohibited."

Silence.

"Understood?"

"…Yes, Miss Misaki."

And with that, she walked down the hall, swiftly clip-clopping her heels on the linoleum floor. She straightened her glasses, brushed off her suit jacket, and straightened her shoulders.

Her thin, dark lips curled into a smile.

_Dia Misaki strikes again._

* * *

_(A/N) - hehe. didn't see that one comin', didja?_

_yeah Dia. burn, baby, burrrn. ooh, such a wicked little witch-bitch. yes, this was a sad chapter. my apologies to those who shed a few tears. but might i suggest listening to some happy Regina Spektor songs? i did. it helped with the insane intensity of it all. :3_

_okey-dokey. review. review review review._


	15. Gave It All Away

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 14

* * *

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP –_

"AAHH!"

Amu's eyes flew open; she flailed her arms into the air, and felt the substance beneath her decreasing. She clung desperately to her comforter – but to no avail.

She landed, butt-first, on the hard-wood floor with a dull _thud_. She groaned, and slammed her fist on her bedside table, silencing the stupid alarm clock. She groaned once again, sprawling herself on her back against the freezing hard-wood floor.

_Damn alarm clock._

_Well, at least the power's back on._

She couldn't believe it. She'd actually fallen off the bed. _Moron_.

Amu sat up, and sighed heavily. She ran a hand through her hair. She curled her up her head into her knees, and only then did she realize she was still in the clothes she'd been wearing the night before. She breathed in heavily, only to realize that she couldn't breathe – through her stuffy, clogged nose, at least. She opened her eyes, only to realize that her head was pulsating with a feverish migraine that split through her ears painfully.

_Great. A cold. _

Amu clutched the edge of her bed, and slowly stood up. Her knees wobbled, and in an instant, she found herself plopped onto the end of her bed, swaying dizzily.

_A bad one. _

She groaned, placing her forehead in her hands, leaning against her knees.

The fact that she did not get any sleep whatsoever last night did not help her current state. Every time she'd close her eyes, the vivid image of last night would flash through her mind, and her eyes would bolt open once more. She cringed just at the thought.

She kissed him.

She kissed him without thinking. Her emotions had spiraled beyond her control – her head and her heart were at war, and her heart had won.

_How could you have been so stupid?_

But it wasn't the sole thought of the kiss that bothered her.

It was the fact that she'd…

Amu stood up, brushing off the faintness in her legs and the heaviness in her head. But no matter what she did, she couldn't avoid the burden plaguing her heart.

…She'd enjoyed it.

She'd _relished_ it.

She'd practically _thrown_ herself at him, for God's sake. How could she possibly face him?

Amu rubbed her temples as she walked to her bathroom, ready and willing to burn her skin in taking the hottest shower in the history of man. The steamy shower did not help Amu's headache whatsoever, and her breathing passages were still as stuffy as they had been, if not worse. She blew her nose loudly, and cringed –

She sounded like an elephant.

_Not_ good.

Amu attempted to pick out half-decent-looking clothes, and wound up with a knee-length, somewhat summery teal strapless dress and a white sweater. The rule "no white after Labor Day" did not apply at this point in time – Amu's head hurt so badly, she couldn't even see straight. Whoever made the dumb rule would have to put up with it.

Amu hesitated to do her make-up; her vision was blurred, her arms shook when she held them up, and she did not trust her wobbling, quivering legs to hold her up any longer.

She grabbed a pair of heels – white ones – and stood in front of her closed bedroom door.

_Alright, Amu, it's time. You're going to fill Tucker's food and water, and you're going to leave. No eye contact, no speaking; no communication whatsoever. _

She breathed in deeply, and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

_Here goes. _

Amu opened her bedroom door, and walked into the kitchen. She saw no sign of Ikuto. She filled Tucker's food and water bowl quickly, and bent over to slip on her high heels. Still no sign of Ikuto.

She hurried to tie the small bow on the heels. She was positive, if she even _felt _Ikuto's presence that morning, her day would be ruined completely.

As Amu finished slipping on her other heel, she straightened, and felt an overwhelming nausea rush to her head. Her headache became nearly overpowering – she could not see straight. Her vision was blurred, and her temples pulsated with the intense pain in her sinuses. The blood was all rushing to her head. She felt a nauseated feeling in her gut, and felt her knees wobble as she finally reached the door. She opened it, and walked out of her apartment.

_Amu, what the hell are you doing? You can't go to work like this!_

But she couldn't hear herself think. All she could hear was the blood thumping through her ears.

One last time, the image of her pressing her lips to Ikuto's flashed through her mind, and she lost control.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed. But instead of the cold, hard lobby floor, she felt a warm, soft embrace.

She didn't have to guess twice who it was. She opened her eyes, and despite the searing pain, looked up, immediately making contact with deep, midnight blue eyes.

Her body froze. Her mind was entering panic-mode.

_What… w-what do I do? __I can't be this close to him…_

But even under her heavy congested nose, she could smell his intoxicating cologne. She could feel his smooth, bare chest beneath her tingling fingers – he had just gotten out of the shower.

_NO! Snap out of it!_

_Oh my God, he's holding you, Amu, he's holding you!_

As abruptly as she'd fallen, she snapped back up again, worsening her splitting headache.

"I-I'm fine, really, I just got a little dizzy…" she muttered, her voice nasally and congested.

She squirmed out of Ikuto's grasp, and he helped her stand up.

Just when she thought she'd regained her balance, the moment she let go of Ikuto's arm, her knees collapsed from beneath her again.

_Ugh… damn you, weak knees… _

Amu lost consciousness for fleeting moments. She fell into total darkness behind her eyelids. She felt gravity being whisked out from under her, and her body was suddenly parallel to the ground. She felt something holding her up beneath her shoulders and her knees - almost like pillows. It was almost relaxing, in a dizzy, lethargic way. She finally dared to open her eyes.

She saw a lightly tanned blur of color beside her head. She saw her kitchen, at a higher point of view. Her vision began to blur again, and the blood began to thump in her ears again – she leaned her head on the firm, tan wall beside her head.

It was a somewhat soft wall – it was warm, too. Amu heard a _thump_, _thump_, _thump_ noise coming from the wall.

She thought it was just the blood pulsating through her ears.

But she was mistaken.

It was coming… from the wall. The wall had a heartbeat. Her senses were coming back to her, little by little.

First, her sense of touch – she felt the wall beside her head was soft, and very, very warm. She felt a strong arm behind her head, and another at her knees.

Then, her sense of smell – an overwhelming, familiar scent overpowered her clogged nose, the scent of strong, hypnotizing cologne and the scent of a cat.

Finally, her sense of sight – she looked up, her vision no longer blurred.

The first thing she came in contact with was those dreaded, horrid, hypnotic, mesmerizing, frightening, emotionless, sparkling, gorgeous, deep midnight blue eyes.

Amu let out an agonizing groan, as she felt her body being released onto her familiar leather couch. She felt a cold hand on her forehead, and only then did she realize how warm her face was.

She opened her eyes, and looked pitifully up at Ikuto's face, just above hers. The sight brought both pain and relief to her rigidly stiff body.

"You're burning up," his low, monotonous voice resonated through her clogged ears.

"Ugh, I'm… I'm fine…" Amu grunted, sitting up on the couch. "I have to g-go to work, Miss Watanabe's gonna kill –"

"Hello, Kyoko Magazine?"

Amu's gaze darted up, and her face grew hot when she saw Ikuto standing above her casually, speaking into _her_ cell phone, giving _her_ the indifferent brush off.

"I-Ikuto –!"

"Yo. This is a friend of Hinamori Amu's; she's not coming in to work today due to a severe case of the flu. …Yep."

"You _idiot_!" She whispered harshly. "It's not severe! It's not even the flu! **Ikuto**!"

Amu sat up abruptly, in an attempt to steal the phone away from him – then, her good friend nausea caught up with her. She immediately sunk back down, groaning loudly and clutching her head.

"…Yeah, I guess. Uhh… nope. Look, she's not coming. …Sure. …Nah. …Nope. …Well, nice talking to y – …no. …Nope, never. See ya."

Ikuto closed the phone, and set it on the table beside the couch. Amu gave him a death glare he would never forget. He simply stared blankly back.

"That chick at your office is really nosy."

"Which one?" Amu asked through gritted teeth.

"Dunno. Hayashi or somethin' like that."

_Ugh… Miki… you didn't… _

The thought of Miki playing twenty questions with Ikuto gave Amu a worse headache than she had. Amu rolled over onto her stomach, and buried her head in her pillow, letting out a frustrated groan.

"Of all days to get the flu… stupid, stupid, cold rain…"

Amu felt a strange, tickling sensation on her foot, and looked down at the other end of the couch – Ikuto was untying and gently removing her white high-heels.

He gave her a blank, yet smug look, and said,

"You don't plan to sleep in heels, do you?"

She gave him a sneer, and stuffed her face into the pillow again. Her face felt increasingly warm, however, as she felt Ikuto's soft, gentle fingers touch her cold feet, tickling them ever-so-softly…

_UGH_.

_Amu, shut up. Just __**shut**__**up**__. _

Amu heard Ikuto walk into the kitchen, and she vaguely heard the running of the faucet in her muted hearing. She let out a soft sigh, and closed her aching golden eyes.

She found it momentarily difficult to breathe, so she rolled over onto her back. She felt self-conscious, like her body was sweating, so she slipped off her white sweater and laid it on the table – to her chagrin, her body temperature immediately converted to freezing once again.

_Dumb, stupid freaking flu. _

Amu saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, and watched as Ikuto walked up to her quietly, steaming cup in one hand, washcloth in the other.

He gave her the cup of steaming tea, and she took it, albeit hesitantly. He sat down beside her, on the very edge of the couch, and gently reached for Amu's forehead. She looked at him anxiously, and he looked her directly in the eyes.

Somehow, Amu understood. She read his eyes word-for-word.

_"Don't be afraid. Last night wasn't meant to happen. I would never hurt you again."_

And from that moment on, Amu let Ikuto take control completely. He brushed her bangs from her forehead, and placed the steaming, soothing cloth on her forehead to decrease the swelling. He brought her cold medicine, he wrapped her in blankets – he even foretold her requests.

"Ugh, my head feels like it's going to explode… hey, Ikuto, can you –"

Before she could finish her sentence, Ikuto appeared before her with two aspirin and another cup of steaming hot tea. She gave a weak smile.

"Thanks."

From that moment on, the awkward couple spent a semi-tolerable, almost pleasant morning together. Although the long silences were uncomfortable at times, they found it easy to converse with each other. Amu found herself letting out a chuckle every once in a while at Ikuto's dry humor, in spite of herself. It had been a while since she's seen this softer, less sarcastic side of Ikuto. Finally, her eyes began to feel heavy, and her splitting headache eased dramatically when she closed her eyes.

She laid her head back on the pillow, and curled up in the blanket, sighing heavily.

"Ugh, I need sleep…" She moaned.

Ikuto smirked, staring at her sleeping face. Amu felt his gaze behind her eyelids.

"What're you staring at?" She snapped in a nasally voice, opening her eyes to glare at him.

"Your big red nose."

Amu groaned, and pulled the blanket over her head.

"It's not funny," she muttered.

"Who's laughing?"

"You. In your head."

He smirked, and arose from the leather chair he'd been sitting in. Amu watched him as he traversed the room, and brought his father's violin out from its white case. Her stomach began doing flips, and the same lethargic dizziness came back to haunt her. _Was he really going to play for her?_

She watched as he brought the violin to his shoulder, turning his head and resting his long, slender jaw on the end of the chestnut instrument. He slowly stroked the long, slender bow across the strings, and a low, sad sound rang out through the quiet apartment.

The sound flooded through Amu's muted ears, and seemed to penetrate through the stuffiness and congestion. It serenaded her like the perfect lullaby, tempting her with the sweetness of serene sleep that she hadn't seen in days.

So many memories were held in that instrument – so many memories harmonized with its sad, melancholy tone.

Without thinking, Amu curled up in her blanket and whispered,

"Hey, Ikuto?"

He stopped playing.

"Play something… happy. Something cheerful. Play something… different…"

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes threatened to close as Ikuto brought the instrument to his shoulder once more, and played a soft, blissful, melodious tune that echoed through the small, dim room.

It was so much different than the slow, melancholy tunes that he usually played. He played solemn melodies because he was expressing his inner feelings – chained, tormented, longing to be free.

Now, he played a happy tune with such passion and ease.

_Have his feelings changed? _

It was the last thought on Amu's mind before the world around her went black, listening to the blissful tune of a soft, cheerful violin.

-0-0-0-0-

"…_This_ is why you called me in the middle of my lunch break?"

Rima glared dully at her friend Yaya, who was bouncing around the sidewalk in her leotard, leggings and ballet slippers, teeth chattering.

"Yeah!" Yaya squealed, grabbing Rima's gloved hands. "Isn't it a great idea?"

"Not when I'm eating."

Yaya giggled, only increasing Rima's livid irritation.

"Oh, c'mon, Rima, it'll be fun! We can bring her some soup and some tea; it'll be like a little hospital visit! I've always wanted to do that, except I was too scared to actually go in the hospital… it's all white and smelly, like old sick people, and all I can think about is needles and those ugly paper dresses and yucky medicine –"

"Yaya." Rima held up her hand.

"S-sorry," Yaya said shyly, shivering. "I'm cold."

"Are you sure she's home?"

Yaya stared obnoxiously at her friend Rima.

"I'm positive! I called Kuukai and he told me that she's been sick all morning. Why would he make something like that up?"

Rima shook her head, giving Yaya a dull glare.

"It's not _his_ fibbing I'm worried about."

"Look," Yaya whirled around, opening the passenger's door to Rima's silver Eclipse, "do you wanna make Amu feel better or not? The thing she needs the most right now is some girl-time, if you ask me. Don't you wanna help your _best_ _friend_ get better?"

Rima sighed, rolled her eyes, and without further discussion, walked around to the driver's side of her car. Yaya squealed excitedly, and hopped into the sleek, silver car.

"Off we go to Amu's house!" Yaya sang as they sped down the street.

"She lives in an apartment."

"…Amu's apartment!" Yaya sang again.

For the next few moments, the two friends were silent. Yaya was busy playing with the radio system, "ooh"-ing and "ah"-ing at the touch screen controls. Rima sped down the slick streets of Seiyo City, and when they finally stopped at a red light, she placed her hands on top of the steering wheel.

"…Yaya," she said quietly.

"Hmm?" Yaya muttered, fixing her light brown hair in the mirror.

"Have you noticed something about Amu recently? Something… different?"

Yaya folded the mirror into the ceiling of the car, and looked at Rima, innocently bewildered.

"Not really, no… I mean…" her expression morphed as she was spitting out the answer, "…come to think of it, maybe."

"What did you see?"

"Well," Yaya crossed her long, slender legs, "she was definitely more sociable yesterday. It surprised me – she's usually not that happy on a rainy day."

Rima remained silent. Yaya looked at her carefully.

"Why, Rima? What did _you_ see?"

Rima shook her head.

"She looked distracted. Like something was on her mind. I even saw traces of guilt."

Yaya placed a dainty, slender finger on her chin, and stroked it thoughtfully.

"Hmm… this is a problem. We can't have our cool n' spicy friend Amu keeping secrets from us."

"Who said she was keeping a secret?" Rima snapped up suddenly.

Yaya looked at Rima obviously.

"It's obvious, isn't it? Avoiding our eyes, looking guilty, being distracted… it's written all over her face. I'm good at reading faces – I can just tell."

Rima rolled her eyes. Yaya suddenly pounded a fist into her hand.

"Well, that settles it!"

"Settles what?"

Yaya looked incredulously at Rima.

"We're going to get it out of her, of course."

"What? No!"

"What do you mean, 'no'? Of course we will! We're her friends, after all, we deserve to know."

"We don't need to pry into her business, Yaya!"

"Usually, you'd be the one to pry, Rima."

"WHAT DID YOU SA–"

"Rima, the light."

"Wha – ugh," Rima cursed under her breath, and pressed firmly on the gas pedal.

Rima sped through the streets, changing lanes, passing people left and right, swerving and jerking the poor car as if it was a toy. Yaya threw her hands in the air, and let out a "whee", until she was silenced by a sharp glare from Rima.

"It's impossible," Rima muttered, clearly irritated. "Amu would never keep a secret from me."

"Not unless it was something big. Something really, REALLY big. Something 'Desperate Housewives' big."

Yaya gasped, and threw a finger in the air.

"I've got it!" She turned to face Rima. "She's cheating on her husband."

The car swerved abruptly. Rima pounded her forehead onto the steering wheel.

"What the – no! Idiot!"

Yaya shrugged. "Just a suggestion. I saw it on American TV once."

Rima let out a frustrated sigh, driving as speedily as possible to Eclipse Lane, the crappy street that Amu lived on. She was clearly distraught about Yaya's suggestion.

Amu? Keeping a secret? From her?

Impossible.

"Look, there's a grocery store! If we bring Amu chocolates and 'get-well' gifts, she'd bound to spill the beans," Yaya squealed.

Rima contemplated the thought, and slammed down on the brake pedal, swerving violently into the grocery store parking lot, sending Yaya flying across the small car's interior.

"Alright. A couple cans of soup, a package of herbal tea, maybe a few roses. But that's IT."

"Y-yeah…" Yaya sat up dizzily, opening the car door, watching Rima stalk quickly into the grocery store. "I-I'm coming… just gimme a sec…"

Rima walked quickly and lithely into the store, shooting a death glare to all who even attempted to give her a friendly glance.

All hell broke loose when the suggestion was thrown into the air that Amu – her best friend, Amu – was keeping a secret from her.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

_…Right?_

-0-0-0-0-

Amu opened her eyes to the sound of her cell-phone's ringtone –

"Ugh… shut UP, Britney…"

Britney Spears was **not** her ideal remedy for her headache.

Amu flung her arm onto the table beside her, and fumbled around until her hand came across a hard, small object, vibrating and tickling her hand. She forced herself to yank her head out of the depths of the cozy leather couch; and regretted it immediately.

Her head swirled with remnants of the excruciating headache she'd been freed of in that blissful sleep she'd just been awoken from. Her nasal passages were clogged completely – her heartbeat pounded against her ribcage, and pulsated through her head. She sighed.

However horrible a state she was in now, she felt much better than she did before. The dizziness had died down, and she could see everything clearly.

Britney continued to scream at her. She growled, let out a quiet yawn, and pressed the green talk button.

Immediately, she regretted it.

"AMU! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU HAD A MAN! A GOOD-LOOKING ONE, AT THAT! HOW COULD YOU KEEP SOMETHING SO –"

The voice cut off.

Amu held the obnoxious contraption in her hand, a pained expression on her face, taking her finger off the red cancel button she'd just pressed.

She waited patiently.

Once again, the Britney Spears ringtone came whistling back. She pressed the green talk button once more.

The voice on the other line spoke softly and meekly.

"…I'm sorry."

Amu sighed.

"Forgiven." She squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Now… repeat it, slowly, quietly, _gently_."

Miki Hayashi let out an excited giggle from the other line.

"Amu, I can't believe this! You've got a man? I can't believe you didn't say anything! I mean, granted, I would've asked for a full background check and identification clarification, but this guy sounds _major_ hot! How long have you been going out? And he's taking care of you when you're sick? How adorable! This guy must be a real cutie! Oh, by the way, how are you feeling?"

Amu tried to roll her eyes – she stopped mid-way, closed her eyes, and squeezed the bridge of her nose. It hurt too much.

"Miki, he's not my boyfriend. His living quarters just so happen to reside in my apartment – temporarily. Also, it was his idea to make me stay home, not mine. And yes," she sighed heavily, "I'm fine."

"Ohh…"

Her dismay was short-lived.

"So what does he look like?" She bubbled excitedly.

Amu cringed, and looked around frantically for a good excuse. She laid eyes upon Tucker, and spoke rapidly into the phone,

"Oh God, Tucker, what – oh, no, this is awful! Miki, I'm gonna have to call you back – eww, it's all over the place! Ugh, bye, Miki!"

"Feel better soon, Amu! By –"

Amu chucked the cell phone into the leather chair across the room, sinking back into the couch, holding her head in her hands. She let out a congested moan, and looked at the table beside her.

There, arranged neatly on the table, were several vitamins, a teaspoon of cold medicine, a freshly heated mug of steaming tea. She smiled softly, in spite of herself.

_He really did care. _

"Thinking about something, Amu?"

Amu jolted forward, and her hand sprung to her ear, where a warm breath tickled the sensitive skin. She looked up and glared at the indigo-eyed man hovering directly above her heated, rosy face.

_Screw it. Screw it all. This guy is sadistic. _

She sat up, slowly, ignoring his teasing actions, and running a hand through her disheveled fuchsia hair. She leaned her elbows on her knees, and took time to process the world from this angle.

"Sleep well?"

She smirked slyly.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

She looked back, to see Ikuto smirking at her from the kitchen.

"Touché," he replied.

Amu smirked with him for moments, but immediately fell into a state of sickened depression once more.

_You're sounding just like him, dufus!_

Amu let out a heavy sigh, and stood slowly from her comfortable couch. She found it easier to stand, and her senses had cleared considerably from the point she had fainted. She took a few steps, wobbled, and found her footing again. She breathed in deeply. She looked down, to find that she was still in her teal-green dress, that she had planned on wearing to work.

Just the thought made her sick to her stomach again.

_Ran Watanabe will have your head, moron. _

Her knees felt wobbly again, and before she knew it, she had sunken into a firm embrace, belonging to none other than her valiant hero in indigo, catlike armor.

"When will you ever just… let me _fall_, already?" Amu muttered dizzily, without thinking, as he helped her to her feet.

Ikuto smirked slyly, bringing her up to her feet and facing her towards him. He pressed her up against the wall, placed an arm to barricade her between him and the wall, and stooped down to her face.

Amu felt her face heat up as he whispered into her ear,

"When I'm not here to catch you."

His sharp indigo gaze cut through her innocence, and immediately, she felt that same overpowering desire to move closer…

And closer…

To press her lips –

"AMU-CHI! We're coming in!"

Yaya waltzed into Amu's doorframe, turning and singing,

"We heard you were a little under-the-weather, so we brought you some soup and some of your favorite –"

She stopped.

Rima came in behind her, slipping off her shoes.

"Yaya, hurry up, it's cold in the lobby. Yeah, we brought you some of that raspberry herbal tea you like so much, so I bet you'll feel better in no –"

She stopped as well.

The scenario they were laying eyes upon…

It was too unreal. Everything about it. Everything.

Amu, pressed up against the wall.

A mysterious man, barricading her against the wall.

A mysterious man with indigo hair, deep, midnight eyes, and skin the color of milky moonlight.

Yaya's jaw dropped. Rima's jaw clenched.

Impossible.

_Impossible, __**impossible**__. _

No secrets.

"…Impossible."

* * *

_(A/N) - oopsie-daysie._

_silly amu. why u keep secret from yo best fran?_

_yeah. anyhoodly-doo. reveiu, si vous plait._


	16. Lost In You

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 15

* * *

"Ts… Tsukiyomi Ikuto?"

Very slowly, a large smile began to curl slowly upon Yaya's cheeks.

Very rapidly, her mood had changed from complete and utter shock to an extraordinary fascination.

"Oh… my… GOSH! TSUKIYOMI!" Yaya squealed, crashing into the tall figure and squeezing him tightly. "It's been so long! I can't believe you're actually here! And you're famous too – wow, I'm in the room with a CELEBRITY! This is so insane! I LOVE the way you play the violin! Oh, I've _got_ to get a picture, the girls at the studio will FREAK!"

Amu stood, wide-eyed, completely and utterly dumbfounded. Everything was happening too fast for her congested mind to handle. Before she could blink, the door had swung wide open, and her two good friends Yuiki Yaya and Mashiro Rima waltzed in.

Yuiki Yaya.

Mashiro Rima.

Ikuto Tsukiyomi.

_Not_ a good mix.

Especially when – thrown into the mix – this Ikuto Tsukiyomi was pressing Yuiki Yaya and Mashiro Rima's good friend Amu Hinamori against a _wall_.

Just the thought made Amu nauseated.

"Y-Yaya," she stuttered, using the wall for support, trying to gather her wits. "B-be careful, he's not exactly –"

"**AMU**."

Amu cringed. She turned, and felt an ominous aura emanating from her front door. She could nearly see the livid hatred in Rima's stance – and the way she was crushing a package of Raman noodles to pieces.

Amu never thought her dainty, petite hands could hold so much power.

"R-Rima, calm down, I can explain everyth –"

"You sure _will_ explain everything." Rima's voice was low and gravelly.

Amu shuddered at the amount of livid hatred contained in Rima's normally soft, autumn eyes. The cynical glare cut sharply through Amu's very soul. She had seen it before. The very same glare had cut through Amu's soul the day that Amu had told Rima that she and Ikuto had a… thing.

That day had been… bad.

No doubt, today would be no different.

"Rima, you'll think this is all crazy, but he saved my life a couple nights ago, and I had no choice but to bring him back here, because he was hurt –"

"A COUPLE NIGHTS AGO?"

"Well, he was hurt pretty badly, so I had to keep him here –"

"So that you two could smother each other in 'medical assistance'?" Rima snapped. "I've heard enough, Amu – you're ruining your own life. It's no longer my concern. Let's go, Yaya."

Yaya looked up from her cell phone, in the process of taking a picture of her and Ikuto together. Ikuto's face was void of expression, but Amu could see the true pain in his eyes. Yaya looked at Rima with confusion.

"But, I thought we were –"

"You got her secret, right?" Rima snapped, stalking over to her and snatching her by the arm, ignoring her struggle.

"But R-Rima, she didn't do anything wrong…"

And as Rima dragged Yaya to the front door, and as Yaya gave Amu a sympathetic gaze, Amu felt a sudden surge of adrenaline rush through her body, straight to her head. She pushed herself off the wall, and forced her legs to stand.

_Not again. This is __**not **__**happening **__**again**__. _

Without further hesitation, she flung her arm out and slammed the door shut, stopping Rima and Yaya dead in their tracks. Amu stepped in front of the door, steadfast and _angry_. She gave Rima a determined glare that she would never forget.

"If you think I'm going to let you walk out that door and leave me here to rot with regret, _forget_ it," she snapped lithely. "I'm sick of people I call 'friends' walking out on me without an explanation. You're going to sit down, and you're going to listen to everything I have to say, and if I get any shape, form, or fashion of an interruption, I'll _tie_ you down if I have to."

Yaya looked at Amu with a dumbfounded fascination. Rima's glare hadn't budged from her doll-like features. Ikuto just stood behind Amu, bewildered at her ability to stand on her own feet, much less let out an angry snap of such magnitude.

Amu was slightly surprised herself.

_How'd you do that, Amu?_

"Fine."

Rima dragged Yaya by the arm again, this time to the couch, plopping down on it, angrily expectant. Amu took a deep breath before she walked slowly and steadily over to the couch, suppressing the faintness in her head. Ikuto looked at her fleetingly, and seeing the fatigue in her eyes, stepped forward in preparation to catch her. She gave him a dull glare, and shot her eyes over to the door of her bedroom. He understood, and slipped across the living room and into Amu's bedroom.

"I'm gonna… take a nap," he muttered in the threshold of her bedroom.

Rima and Yaya's eyes hadn't left his body once.

When he was finally absent from the room, Yaya burst into a tumultuous overflow of words.

"OHMIGOSH, Amu, when in the world did he get so CUTE? And tall, too; wow, he's like a tower! And his eyes, OH, his eyes are like jewels, they're so sparkly! And he's famous, too, you've got it _good_!"

Rima shushed her friend, and looked Amu directly in the eyes, which was difficult for Amu to return when she found the amount of venom in her autumn yellow stare.

"Amu, PLEASE tell me that man is not the same idiot who left you standing at the altar 5 years ago."

"He did _not_ leave me standing at the altar, Rima, he –"

"And now you're defending him!" Rima threw her hands up in the air. "You're in love with him again, I know it, I just know it…"

"I am not!" Amu squeaked, her face hot. "I'm simply taking on the task that any ordinary, good-willed citizen would do in these circumstances."

Amu took a deep breath, realizing how much lighter her headache felt, and how her voice was less nasally than before.

Ikuto's care did wonders for her health. Unbelievable. She'd have an easier time defending him, since he was currently on her good side.

"What circumstances are those?" Rima growled. "What did that idiot boy do –"

"Yeah, yeah, tell us!" Yaya chirped.

Amu sighed, and took a deep breath.

"I was walking home from the drugstore on the night of the concert and there were these two men that came up to me and tried to take me away so I beat them with an umbrella but they pulled out a gun and I got scared and they tried to kidnap me or rape me or something like that. But then a random guy just up and kicked them in the face and fought them in the alley and it was so dark I couldn't see a thing and I heard two gunshots but I couldn't see what was going on so then I heard them shouting and I heard them running away. So I went into the alley and found the guy lying on the ground and found out that he had been shot in the chest twice and got scared because I thought he was going to die but he was okay so I helped him out of the alley and it was too dark to see who he was so when we got out into the street and the light hit his face I realized that it was Ikuto." She took a breath. "SO… I brought him back to my apartment and Kuukai helped me carry him upstairs and I took care of his wounds myself because he didn't want the police to find him and he's been staying at my apartment ever since."

Amu breathed heavily, feeling lightheaded again.

_Too much talking, Amu. _

Both Yaya and Rima stared at her with a look of awed fascination. Well, slightly differing variations of fascination – Rima still looked angry, albeit shocked, but Yaya looked like she was ready to burst like a bubble.

"Are you SERIOUS?" Yaya screamed, grabbing Amu's hands and dancing around. "Oh… my… GOSH you are so lucky, Amu! You got saved from death by a tall dark and mysterious man in the shadows that just happened to be the love of your life! How romantic!"

Amu allowed herself to be flung wildly by Yaya's frantic actions, deep in thought.

She'd never thought of it that way. When she put it that way, it sounded a lot better than it usually did when Amu overplayed it in her head.

As she was replaying the sentence again, delighted at how the situation was now sounding to her, she paused.

"Hold on, love of my –"

"He saved your life…?"

Rima sank deeper and deeper into the couch, looking extremely befuddled by this recent news. Her angry brow gradually decreased to one of complete and utter shock. Amu looked at Rima solemnly.

"Yes, Rima. He saved my life. Now do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, of course I understand…" she brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her headband. "But… why didn't you tell us?"

Amu sighed, and sat down on the couch beside her. Yaya followed, becoming more solemn.

"I… couldn't. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what _you_ would say… I didn't want you both to worry, and, and I knew you would disapprove of him staying here, but it's really not all that bad, I mean it is coincidental, but… I just couldn't tell you."

Yaya took Amu by the hands again, and Amu looked at her hesitantly. For the first time in a long time, Yaya looked calm; she smiled at Amu softly.

"I think you did the right thing, Amu." She giggled, "I wouldn't have the guts to tell my friends either! I mean after all, you did fall in love with this guy five years ago and now he's a famous celebrity, so you basically have no chance… I mean, not that I don't doubt he still loves you, I just don't think you both are capable of… y'know… uhh… of course, you could if you wanted to, I mean… erm…"

Amu's self-esteem was dwindling fast, and Yaya's comment caused it to diminish completely.

"Thanks, Yaya." She said dully.

Rima looked up at Amu, and Amu looked at her hopefully. Finally, Rima broke the silence with a small pout.

"Fine. I suppose I can allow him to stay here momentarily…"

Amu smiled at Rima, and Yaya seized the opportunity while everyone was in a pleasant mood to squeeze Amu tightly and jump up and down. Amu felt the headache coming back to her, and cringed.

"Uh, Yaya…"

"I can't believe he's living in your APARTMENT!"

"Y-Yaya…"

"And he's so _fine_, too; good grief, Amu, is he taken?"

"…Y…Yayaa…"

"If he's not, I have a cousin that would love to make arrangements!"

The three friends conversed for what seemed like hours, laughing and getting on each other's nerves, as always. A gathering with all three of them was a rare occasion due to their high-demanding jobs; they enjoyed the moment while it lasted. Rima announced that it was past time for her lunch break to end, and had trouble dragging Yaya out the door, but eventually the two did get out of Amu's flat.

As Rima was shoving Yaya out the door, and tossed her the keys to start the heat in Rima's car, she stopped and turned to Amu.

"You do realize what this means, Amu… don't you?" She said gravely.

Amu walked to her door behind Rima, and managed a small smile.

"Look, Rima, if you think I'm falling for him again, rest assured, I'm not." _Liar..._ "There's no need to worry. I've got it all under control."

_Which is another way of saying you have _nothing_ under control._ Rima sighed.

"I really don't think keeping him here is a good idea, Amu –"

"Relax, Rima. I'm just tending to his wounds until they heal. I don't plan to fall in love ever again."

_You never __**plan**__ to do that. _

"…Alright. You know that I love you, and I'm only looking out for you."

"I know. I love you too."

_Not as much as you love… him. _

"See you later, Rima. I'll call you." Amu said, closing the door behind Rima.

Rima sighed, and whispered beneath her breathe,

"Bye, Amu Hinamori."

_Forever_.

_Hello, Amu Tsukiyomi. _

-0-0-0-0-

"Phew… they're leaving… guess that means everything went alright, huh, buddy?"

Kuukai scratched the fur behind Tucker's ears, and Tucker licked his hand in response. Kuukai chuckled.

"I was pretty freaked for a second there… heh, thought there was gonna be a cat-fight or something."

Kuukai stood up from the couch, stretched obnoxiously, and made his way over to his refrigerator. He took out a carton of milk, and drank it straight from the carton. Tucker followed him, golden tail wagging back and forth. Kuukai looked down at him, and smirked.

"Actually, it probably would've been entertaining… Rima would _not_ let Amu go down easy. And Yaya would just go all ninja on both of them."

He stopped mid-stride across the kitchen, and smirked again, chuckling to himself.

"…_That_ would be interesting."

He placed the milk on the counter, and pulled a box of cereal out of the pantry.

"Still, it was pretty brave of Amu to keep a secret like this from them for so long. She only did it for their sake; she didn't want them to worry."

He looked down at Tucker.

"Right?"

Tucker wagged his tail, and plopped onto the kitchen floor, waiting patiently for some of the cereal.

"I mean, Tsukiyomi just popping up outta nowhere was pretty surprising… let alone the fact that Amu used to be in love with him."

Tucker perked his ears up suddenly, looking solemn. Kuukai took it as an objection.

"What?" He questioned sarcastically.

He poured the cereal into a bowl and poured the milk in after it. He sighed, with a small smirk.

"So you think she's still in love with him, huh?"

Tucker almost seemed to answer him with his round, brown eyes. Kuukai sighed.

"Yeah… me too."

He stared distantly into his cereal bowl, stirring with a spoon. A look of disdain came across his face.

Tucker nudged him quickly, laying down at his feet and placing his chin on the kitchen floor.

"What?" Kuukai smiled suddenly, snapping out of his daze. "I'm fine, buddy."

He turned around and leaned against the counter, picking out pieces of cereal and throwing them on the floor for Tucker to scoop up like a vacuum cleaner.

"It's my loss, my fault… I was too slow," he muttered distantly.

Kuukai smiled sadly at the golden retriever.

"Tsukiyomi beat me to it – and I never cheat in a race."

He finished the bowl of cereal quickly, and tossed the bowl into the sink. He walked into his bedroom, ruffling Tucker's golden fur along the way, smirking.

"Guess this'll go down in the books as my first loss."

-0-0-0-0-

Amu smirked, and placed a hand on her mouth to suppress her giggling.

Ikuto was curled up in her bed, holding his arms beneath his head and this close to sucking on his thumb. His normally solemn, devious face was loosened dramatically in the deepness of his slumber, and the look of innocence on his face was more than Amu could take.

He'd always looked adorable when he slept.

Her memory drifted back to all the times they'd fallen asleep together, when she was curled up in his arms and knew he wouldn't let go. For once, she wasn't ashamed to think such bold thoughts. She didn't attempt to snap herself out of her reverie. She simply stared at Ikuto's sleeping face with a smile.

She drifted out of the room with a light, almost bubbly feeling about her. Her head felt so much lighter than it had – no doubt it was Ikuto's treatment to her cold that had done the trick. She was trapped within her sweetest memories, and enjoyed the feeling of the sweet nostalgia without the regret.

A certain memory popped into her head – one of the sweetest of all.

* * *

"What do you think?" she asked.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and placed his chin on her shoulder.

He placed his thumb in front of him and closed one eye, staring at the canvas with his head tilted.

Amu rolled her eyes.

"You dummy, you do that before you draw it."

Ikuto smirked.

"Beautiful."

He kissed her neck.

"Almost as much as you."

He placed his hand over hers, conducting her paintbrush.

"But I think you missed a little, right…"

He swiped the paintbrush over her nose.

"…there."

Amu's cheeks blushed a furious red, matching the bright spot on the tip of her nose.

"Ikuto!"

She slinked her hand out of his grip and swiped the paintbrush across his cheek, leaving a bright red streak akin to the one on her nose. Ikuto smirked deviously. Amu recognized it.

She'd just given him grounds for revenge.

He grabbed another paintbrush from the mug, a larger one, and dipped it in some blue paint, leaving Amu with an entirely inferior weapon. His eyes still held that mischievous gleam.

"Oh no, Ikuto – don't you da –"

But before she could finish her threat, the strong teenage boy had her arms locked in one fist, and swiped the paintbrush across her cheekbone, leaving a cerulean blue marking. Amu giggled and escaped his grasp, snatching another paintbrush from the mug and quickly swiping it in a puddle of green paint. With two paintbrushes in hand, she poked and jabbed at him, successfully streaking his arms with stripes of red and green. He continued to attack with the blue, and eventually brought a purple brush into the battle.

When they finally grew weary from running around the room like animals, they collided into each other and marveled at their masterpieces, laughing hysterically and out of breath.

Amu giggled – she closed one eye, put her thumb in front of her face, and tilted her head.

Ikuto smirked, colliding foreheads with hers, tickling her face with the breath of his laughter.

"Dummy. You do that before you create a masterpiece."

"I think I like you better this way," she smiled.

Ikuto brushed the purple and blue streaked bangs from Amu's forehead, and she smiled at his warm touch.

"Yeah? Well I like you both ways."

He touched the tip of her nose playfully.

"Although I have to say… red is definitely your color."

And covered in paint from head to toe, the two renegade artists embraced each other, kissing and laughing uncontrollably in the bliss of the moment.

* * *

Amu felt... inspired.

The memory was fresh in her mind, and she couldn't force it out (not that she tried). She felt a renewed sense of accomplishment, like she'd just conquered the militia or climbed Mt. Everest. She'd basically done just that – not in so many words, of course – but she felt that telling her friends about a celebrity who'd saved her life and was sleeping in her apartment was _quite_ an immeasurable feat.

She felt compelled.

She felt driven.

She felt like… painting.

Almost as soon as the thought popped into her head, she made her way to the coat closet in her living room. She opened the door and reached to the highest shelf, feeling her way around because her height did not enable her to see very much.

"Ah-hah!" She muttered under her breath, feeling a wave of excitement.

Amu yanked out a large, white canvas, which she blew on and brushed with her hand.

"Still good." She smirked to herself.

She placed the canvas on the couch, and pulled what seemed like a bundle of sticks out of the corner of the closet. She unfolded it and produced a thin, chestnut-colored wooden easel. She pulled several paintbrushes out of the cabinet, and found some old, used paint in her dresser. She set the easel and the canvas in front of the window, where streams of the setting sun shone through, and pulled up a kitchen stool in front of it.

She took a deep breath, and sat down.

She knew exactly what to paint.

-0-0-0-0-

Ikuto opened his eyes at the scent of paint wafting through his nose.

He cocked an eyebrow, slightly pissed.

He was having the sweetest dream, for once.

He sat up, and dragged his limp body to the edge of the bed, stretching his arms and legs and yawning like a cat. He stood up, and went to Amu's mirror, looking at his reflection.

Same as always.

Lazy, mischievous cat.

_What else is new, moron? You think you're going to be anything more than that in her eyes?_

Ikuto sighed, rubbing the back of his head, further tangling his silky midnight hair.

_"I'm just tending to his wounds until they heal. I don't plan to fall in love ever again."_

_Remember that. Stop trying to see it your own way. _

He walked out of the bedroom, still scratching his head sleepily, when he was stopped by a blinding orange light in the corner of the room.

When he turned his sleepy gaze toward the light, he felt sheer shock hit him full force.

Her bright fuschia hair looked as if it was a part of the sunset, glowing radiantly in the soft orange glow, cascading down her back in soft, silky waves. Her back was arched straight, and her thin, soft, summer-tanned legs were crossed neatly on the small kitchen stool which she sat.

He was _wide_ awake now.

She held the palette in her right hand, and painted with her left, just as he remembered. _She writes with her right, and paints with her left._ From his point of view, he could only imagine the look in her honey golden eyes – her brow creased and taught, and her pupils full of determination, full of wonder, full of… beauty. Her canvas was covered in pencil markings and a few splotches of paint here and there.

But Ikuto wasn't staring at the painting.

He was staring at the breathtaking masterpiece, sitting in the sunset, painting with her left hand.

And for fleeting moments, he lost his sense of discernment. The ongoing voice in his head that told him to restrain was being drowned out by his undying urge to wrap her in his arms.

Before he could do anything rash, he simply smirked, and leaned against the threshold of the bedroom door, watching her carefully.

-0-0-0-0-

Amu sighed, flustered at her inability to capture the image in her mind.

Her painting lacked something – something important.

Amu just didn't know _what_.

She tapped her foot impatiently, chewing on the stick of the paintbrush in her hand, coated with bright green paint. She reached for the bottom corner of the canvas, and swiped a few vibrant streaks of green across the bottom of the painting.

"You missed a spot."

Amu nearly jumped out of her stool at the low voice behind her.

How long had he been standing there?

She smirked, and quickly gathered her wits.

"Really? I fail to see where."

She turned her head only a slight bit, to be met with dark, handsome blue eyes staring directly into hers only inches away. Amu blushed. She should be used to his erotic behavior by now. But she had a feeling she'd never… _ever_ get used to Ikuto.

Ikuto's famous smirk was plastered all over his face, making Amu blush more.

"Right…"

Ikuto slowly and seductively licked the tip of her nose.

"…there."

Then, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.

Amu… was exploding inwardly.

But her inward feelings had yet to reach her facial expression muscles.

When they finally did, Ikuto was already gone.

"IKUTO, you PERV!"

But despite the irritated feelings toward each other, both had much deeper motives to their sudden displays of emotion. But of course, like it had been and always would be, neither would show it.

They just smiled to themselves.

* * *

_(A/N) - fweee happy chappy. or hapter chapter. whatevah._

_whoa-ho-hooo, take it easy on the fluffiness, eh author?_

_okay. review review review._


	17. Let Go

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 16

* * *

Nagihiko looked up from his piano at the sound of a soft knock at his door.

He stood up from his piano bench, and tied his long amethyst hair back into a low ponytail as he walked to the front door of his apartment.

When he opened the door, he was thoroughly surprised.

"Rima?"

"That's Miss Mashiro to you."

Nagihiko nodded, smiling slightly. "Ah, sorry. Can I help you?"

The petite blonde stared at her shoes, hands folded and knees buckling uncomfortably. Nagihiko was confused, and leaned forward.

"Would you… like to come in?"

Before he could ask why she'd come in the first place, the small blonde was half-way down the hall of his apartment floor. Nagi peered out the door, thoroughly befuddled.

_Well. That was eventful. _

His heart had jumped a few paces when he'd seen Rima – err, Miss Mashiro's tiny figure at his doorstep. Now, he could just barely catch a glimpse of her long golden hair as she rounded the corner back to the elevator.

Nagi sighed. He knew that Miss Mashiro didn't take a liking to his carefree personality. Though she was grave and serious, he was lighthearted and fairly freespirited, and she did not find him amusing in the slightest. Also, Miss Mashiro saw him as somewhat of a rival when the subject of Amu's friendship came into play. Rima's friendship with Amu was _not_ to be tampered with, and Nagi hadn't done it on purpose; he just happened to feel something toward Amu that was more… _intimate_ than friendship.

He wasn't ashamed to admit it – he was in love with Amu, and he had been since the moment he met her in elementary. He may not have known what love meant in elementary, but he knew as he grew older that the way he felt toward Amu was the exact definition of love in his personal dictionary. There was a slight problem, however. Nearly every other man in Amu's life felt the exact same way. It didn't surprise him that she had that effect on every man. That's why Nagi kept his feelings hidden, and continued being the friend to Amu that he'd always been – hiding his feelings in the shadows, suppressing the urge to stare at her radiant beauty in every opportunity they were together.

However slim his chances may have seemed, he would not give up.

He just… wouldn't tell her, either.

Nagi sighed, sinking into thoughts of Amu, and began to shut the door, when a firm object stopped it. Before he could turn his head, his thoughts of Amu were interrupted by Rima Mashiro flinging the door back in his face, and walking lithely into his apartment, planting her feet firmly in the middle of his living room.

Nagihiko recovered from his shock. He smiled, shaking his head inconspicuously, shutting his door.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Mashiro? Perhaps some –"

"Tea is fine. Green tea."

Nagi smiled directly into Rima's eyes, finally seeing them for the first time since she'd made that awkward appearance. Her sunshine golden eyes held a touch of lightheartedness, but stared him down with all seriousness. But Nagi knew that Rima wasn't all solemnity. He knew she could have fun – he'd seen it, on rare occasions.

He walked into the kitchen, connected to his living room, and began heating water to make Rima's green tea. He caught a glimpse of her, standing idly in the center of his living room, staring all around his apartment, resting her eyes on his piano. He smiled, and decided to take a risk.

"You came just in time – I was playing a new piece, one by Chopin."

Nagi placed the water kettle on the stove, and turned on the burner. He descended to the living room, and sat at the piano bench, looking up at a wide-eyed Rima.

"Would you like to hear it?"

Rima opened her mouth as if to say something, and then closed it. She folded her hands, and turned her head away.

"F-fine." She stuttered.

Nagi smiled once again, and kept his gaze on Rima as he laid his hands on the keys. As soft as a winter snowfall, he began to play, slowly, majestically. Rima found it increasingly harder to keep her gaze trained away from the musical genius.

The piece was indeed beautiful. Though Rima would never admit it out loud (who do you think she is?), she saw Nagihiko Fujisaki as a very talented man; very artistic. However, her admiration for him stopped there.

Finally, she brought herself to look at him. She felt her cheeks heat up, but did nothing to hide it. She was entranced by the sudden beauty of the music – and of Nagihiko.

His long, deep amethyst hair was pulled back in a white ribbon, and his chocolaty brown eyes were soft and smiling against the black and white keys. His hands moved skillfully and gracefully, placing each note perfectly as if he'd done this very piece his whole life.

Rima had never been so entranced by simple music before. Then again, she'd never heard Nagi – er, Fujisaki play before.

_Dammit_. Her soft side was coming out. She could feel it.

Suddenly, the music stopped abruptly, as did her good mood.

"Oh, the water's ready." Nagi stood from the bench.

Instead of a beautiful melody, an annoying screaming of a tea kettle flooded her ears, reversing her mood entirely. It was then that she remembered why she came here in the first place.

Nagihiko poured the steaming green tea into two traditional Japanese cups, and served them on a small tray. He brought them out to the living room, where Rima still stood awkwardly by the piano. Nagi placed the tray on the coffee table and gestured for Rima to sit on the couch.

"Might I offer you a seat, Miss Mashiro?" He smiled at her handsomely.

She brushed past him, and sat gracefully on the couch, crossing her petite legs. Nagi followed, sitting on the cushion beside her. He offered her a cup of green tea, and she took it from his hands, feeling a slight touch of his smooth ivory fingers that made a slight blush come across her cheeks. She looked away. Luckily, Nagihiko was busy picking up the other cup of tea for himself.

"So, Ri – M-Miss Mashiro, how have you been?"

"Ikuto Tsukyomi was shot saving Amu's life and is currently living in her apartment under her care." She blurted.

Nagihiko's eyes widened at the sudden outburst. Furthermore, the _content_ of the outburst.

_Oh no. _

"Were you aware of this, Fujisaki?"

Before he could even think it through – there wasn't enough time, anyway – he said fluidly,

"I had… no idea. Wait, you say he saved her life? Ikuto Tsukiyomi?"

Nagi breathed an inward sigh of relief when Rima did not seem to doubt his ignorance.

"Apparently... i-it seems Amu was walking home and was almost mugged and threatened with a gun." Nagi saw her shudder at this. "Ikuto saved her life, but he was also shot twice by the hooligans before they ran off."

"Didn't she bring him to a hospital?" The guilt of feigning ignorance was beginning to sink in.

"No. Apparently, he doesn't want to be found, or doesn't want publicity –" she waved a hand dismissively, "– s-something like that."

He could see the clear and evident distress in Rima's eyes. He knew the feeling. This was clearly upsetting news to her, and he'd have to relive his distress, as well.

"Well, it's a good thing he was there… for goodness' sake, Amu may have died if he hadn't been there."

"I… I know, I know," Rima's voice had grown noticeably quieter, "but… I just don't know how Amu is taking all this. She used to love him, I know that, but I'm afraid she'll… sh-she'll..."

"…She'll fall in love with him again?"

Rima nodded, still clutching the cup of tea in both hands, looking down at her shoes again. Nagi could tell that Rima cared a great deal about Amu, by the way that she was letting down her guard in front of her worst enemy. He felt impulsed to reach out and touch her hand, but felt that he should hold back – it was too soon.

"Rima… is falling in love with him again really such a bad thing?"

She looked up at him with a shocked expression in her innocent golden eyes.

"O-Of course it is!" She was angry now; he hated to see her lovely eyes clouded with such hatred. "He left her all those years ago; he doesn't deserve Amu! He _clearly _never loved her, or he never would've left!"

"But didn't he have a reason for leaving?"

"N-no… I mean, I don't know…" She looked as if a strange revelation was dawning on her, but quickly snapped back to her angry state. "I don't care what reason he had, it wasn't good enough."

"What if it was for her own good?"

"I... I d-don't... I don't understand," Rima said, confusion clouding her face.

Nagi couldn't believe he was saying this. He couldn't believe the words that were flowing unconsciously out of his mouth.

"Perhaps Tsukiyomi left _because_ he loved her. Perhaps he had all of her best intentions in mind when he did what he did."

_What are you saying, you imbecile?_

For some strange reason, which was entirely foreign to every moral in Nagihiko's mind, the things that he was saying to Rima were coming straight from his heart.

Nagi was beginning to finally realize it; he had no chance with Amu. Not when she was still in love with a man who loved her so much, he did the impossible – he let her go. He let her be free, to live her own life, despite the ignorance of the fact that all she wanted was him.

Nagihiko sighed. He reached for Rima's delicate hand unconsciously – if not for her comfort, then for his – squeezing it tightly and moving closer to her on the small living room couch.

_You've won, Tsukiyomi. You've won. _

"Perhaps… we've all got to just let Amu go. To let her live her own life."

_Yes, Nagihiko… let her go. _

Rima stared at her and Nagi's intertwined hands, feeling a certain tightness in her throat, and a stinging feeling overcome her eyes.

"I… I never thought of it… th-that way." Her voice quivered.

Nagihiko leaned forward, trying to find Rima's eyes behind her blonde bangs. When he found them, a sinking feeling buried itself in his chest. He instantly felt a painstaking feeling in his heart for Rima Mashiro.

Her chipper, honey-golden eyes were hollow and glazed over with tears – he'd never seen such a vulnerable look on her face. He couldn't imagine how much pain she was feeling. He squeezed her soft, pale hand tighter.

"It's just…" he could hear her voice breaking. "It's so hard… to let her g-g… go…"

Finally, Nagihiko couldn't take it anymore. There was only one thing he could do, and it was a risk he was willing to take. With no further hesitation, he moved toward Rima, and placed a hand on her blonde haired head and another against her back, drawing her close to him.

To his surprise, Rima did not draw back. She did not relent.

She wholeheartedly fell into his arms, burying her head in his chest, letting tears stream down her cheeks.

Nagi stroked her hair gently, shushing her quietly, caressing her back and smiling softly. He felt the smallest sense of accomplishment in the midst of all his failure. He couldn't believe it. He'd finally done it.

He'd finally broken through to her world.

"I just don't..." she sobbed, "I don't want her to – to get h-hurt any m-more…"

"I know…" Nagi whispered, resting his chin easily against her head. "It's alright, Rima."

He left it at that for several moments, repeatedly caressing her hair and whispering into her ear that everything was going to be alright. Finally, after she'd calmed down some, and simply laid her head against his chest, he said with a soft smile,

"I don't think you have to worry about Tsukiyomi hurting her ever again."

She looked up at him with a sniffle, and he couldn't help but notice how delicate and doll-like she looked, even with a pink nose and slightly red eyes.

"He's… he's a good man," Nagihiko said, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Rima nodded, and to his surprise, leaned back against his chest, sniffling slightly. Nagihiko continued to stroke her hair, leaned his head against hers, and wrapped his arm around her petite waist, feeling such comfort and warmth inside.

After about an hour of tissues, green tea and small talk, blushing and embarrassment, laughing and more crying, piano-playing, and even smiling on both parts, Rima looked at the clock and realized that she had lost track of time and was late for a previous engagement. Nagi walked her out to her car outside his apartment building, and smiled at her as he opened her car door for her.

"Have a nice day, Rima. Thank you for stopping by; it made my day."

Rima smiled her petite, doll-like smile.

"Thank you, Nagihiko."

Nagi smiled at her warmly. She blushed slightly, and hurriedly slipped into her car, but Nagi saw the blush before she could.

He smiled. His name sounded oddly sweet on her lips.

As he watched Rima drive down the street, he looked down at his tear-stained shirt, and thought of how glad he was that he'd worn a black dress shirt – but he would not have cared if it was white.

For Nagihiko was filled with nothing but sheer... magic; all because of Mashiro Rima, the petite, doll-like comedianne.

-0-0-0-0-

**FWD: Hotori Tadase: just a reminder to everyone, the reunion is only a week away, and we will be needing assistance in setting up in Seiyo's gymnasium. text/call me if you are able to make it. **

Amu closed her phone, sighing.

She didn't know how Ikuto was going to react to the reunion. He had gone to Seiyo High, after all. Amu remembered that a buzz was going around about how excited everyone was that Ikuto Tsukiyomi, famous violinist, was going to be at the Seiyo High reunion.

However, Amu didn't know how it would be possible, considering every time she turned on her television, every news station had some word to input on the "sudden disappearance of the legendary violinist, Tsukiyomi Ikuto." And she couldn't be caught dead walking in with a famous renegade musician that had been missing for almost a week, now could she?

Amu set her phone on the table beside her and opened her Jane Austen book once more. It was amazing how much "Persuasion" was related to her own life.

Tucker sat at her feet, tongue lolling and brown eyes peering up at her for attention. She scratched his fur, and he tilted his head as he always did when she scratched him behind the ears. She looked up and saw Ikuto walking out of her room, scratching his head sleepily.

_How much more can this man possibly sleep?_

But despite her slight aggravation built up from earlier, when he'd performed his stunt, Amu couldn't help but notice the fine detail in his muscles. His abdomen was easily a six pack, in the very least, and his broad shoulders and muscular biceps were seemingly more pronounced than before. His ivory skin was lightly tanned, still glistening, and still as perfect as moonlight. His wounds were practically just scars now, tainting his flesh, but making it all the more beautiful in her eyes. His eyes had slight dark circles beneath them, due to the interruption of his heavy slumber, but were still as vividly blue as ever, darker than midnight. His hair was disheveled, but very attractively so, Amu must say.

How did she not notice this sudden handsomeness before?

"Need something?" Amu asked, tearing her gaze away from his muscular form and back to her book.

She heard a soft _thud_, and noticed a spiky, navy blue furry object on her lap. She rolled her eyes, and her face darkened.

"Ikuto." She muttered dully.

He was sprawled out on the couch beside her, resting his head on her lap and falling asleep once more. Amu sighed.

"_Ikuto_."

Once again, she turned her gaze to him. _Mistake_. This time, she _really_ couldn't take her eyes off of his muscular abs, his innocently cute sleeping face, and his luminous skin under the moonlight shining through the window. And the softness of his hair against her thighs… it gave her goose-bumps. Her heartbeat quickened, and the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering madly –

"**Ikuto**."

Amu was beginning to scare herself with the thoughts she'd been having as of late. Something strange was going on in her heart… and she didn't like it.

She heard a low gurgling sound, and immediately, she rolled her eyes.

"If you wanted food, you could've just said something."

Ikuto opened his eyes, and looked up at Amu, who was staring at him dully. She sighed, and raised his head from her lap – albeit reluctantly – stood up, and plopped his head back on the couch with a dull _thud_. She stretched her arms into the air, and placed the book on the coffee table. She made her way to the kitchen, and took out the hot water kettle and two packages of ramen noodles. She sighed. She was beginning to get sick of this crap every night.

"So you don't cook anymore, either."

It was more of a statement than a question. She groaned, and smacked her hand to her head.

"How do you do that?" She questioned incredulously.

He sat up, and she saw his head peer at her from over the couch.

"Do what?"

"Read my freaking mind!" She said flamboyantly. "Scares the hell out of me!"

"So you _do_ want to cook."

"No!" She snapped.

"But you said I read your mind."

"What the – no, you –"

"You were _thinking_ about cooking, then."

"NO! Ugh…"

Amu gave up, threw her hands in the air, and stared with despise at Ikuto's all-too-familiar smirk. He stood up from the couch, and stretched like a cat, before making his way to the kitchen slowly. Amu forced herself not to get trapped in the fantasy world of Ikuto's charming allure.

"Why don't you just do it?"

Amu sighed, and looked at him, blatantly aggitated.

"Do _what_?"

"Cook. Like you used to."

Those words, coming from Ikuto's lips, seemed so… simple. It was as if those words alone were what brought her back into the memories of her past – _their _past.

* * *

"They don't taste bad."

"Yes they do! You can't lie to me!"

Ikuto looked at her with all seriousness.

"I'm not lying. They taste fine."

Amu pouted, and held up a blackened object – in the shape of some sort of cookie – to his face.

"You're telling me that this… _thing_ tastes good? It's burnt! Completely burnt!"

"How'd you burn it?"

Amu pouted, and quietly said,

"I… turned the oven to broil instead of bake."

"So? That shouldn't have done much."

"I… I used too many chocolate chips. Like, the whole bag."

"I like chocolate, Amu."

"I… see those white things? Those are egg shells."

Ikuto sighed, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her close, smirking. He tenderly peeled off her oven mitts, and used one of them to wipe some of the flour off of her face.

"You're such a scatterbrain."

Amu sighed heavily, slumping into his embrace and pouting like a child.

"I can't do anything right."

"Here," Ikuto said, opening to a random page in the recipe book and pointing to a delicious-looking, very intricate cake, "let's make this."

Amu looked at him incredulously.

"I can't – I can't make that! Are you crazy?"

He smiled.

"Let's make it – together."

"B-but… I might mess it up…"

He gave her a sweet peck on her flour-covered nose.

"You'll be fine."

And right away, the pair began to clatter and clank in the kitchen, Ikuto guiding Amu every step of the way. He placed his arms around her, and guided her hands as they cracked the eggs together. No egg shells spilled. They measured the flour and the oil carefully – not two tablespoons, two _teaspoons_. He taught her how to use the buttons on the oven, and that the third number on the timer meant _hours_, not minutes.

Amu waited impatiently for the cake to finish, watching the clock, gritting her teeth and fiddling with her hands. Ikuto just watched her with amusement.

When they both heard a conspicuous _ding_, Amu raced out of her stool and to the oven. Just before she could touch the pan itself, Ikuto managed to grab her and yank her back, safely in his arms.

She looked up at him, slightly annoyed.

He smirked, and held up the oven mitts.

She snatched them with a cute smile, and slipped them on, taking the delicious-looking, golden-brown vanilla cake from the oven and placing it on the counter. Ikuto thought she would explode with happiness.

"We did it!"

Amu ran over to him and leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly, kissing him happily. Ikuto let out a chuckle.

"Guess you can cook after all."

Amu smiled sheepishly, giving him a peck on the lips.

"Thank you."

The two of them waited patiently for the cake to cool off, before decorating it with frosting and a few pieces of fruit – strawberries, to be exact. Amu was delighted.

Ikuto just smiled, staring at the love of his life, watching the look in her eyes as she cut the first piece of cake.

It didn't matter if he hated vanilla with a passion.

It was all worth it, just to see her smile.

* * *

Amu loved that memory.

However, she could not own up to saying that she necessarily liked the aftermath of that memory.

She'd gotten very skilled at cooking, thanks to Ikuto. She'd found a unique passion for it, and he was there every step of the way, supporting her, watching her cook. He was what got her through the troubling and frustrating times, the impossible recipes, and that damn egg cracking.

However, Ikuto, the very inspiration himself, had up and left, leaving her broken and damaged. About a month after he'd left, when she thought she'd finally stopped crying, she tried to cook.

Everything about it reminded her of him, and she cried once more.

So, from that moment on, Amu ate out, ate microwaveable food, ate mac 'n cheese, ate ramen noodles – she ate _anything_ to avoid cooking for herself. After about three years, she tried cooking again, when she had shoved Ikuto further out of her mind – she couldn't. She destroyed every egg, she burnt every cookie, and her knowledge of every measuring system just left her mind.

Ikuto really had been her sole reason for doing the things she loved. Now that he was gone, she was incapable of cooking – along with dancing, and painting.

Just the thought caused Amu to sink into a minor state of depression.

_"Like you used to," huh?_

_Hm. Easier said than done. _

"I can't." She muttered, and turned on the water kettle.

As soon as she did, Ikuto reached over and turned it off.

"Yes, you can."

Amu was stunned. And for a split second, when she looked into his eyes, she saw the exact same look that she'd seen so many years ago on that very day she'd first learned how to cook.

Maybe… maybe she could try again.

_No, it's impossible. You'll only fail, Amu. _

_But… Ikuto's here. He's here again, he came back, and he's watching you – supporting you. You can do it. _

And with that, Amu pulled out a pan from her cabinet, and yanked out an old recipe book from her bookshelf. She flipped to a random page.

She looked at the title, and instantly felt the plague of doubt wash over her. The plague of doubt that came to her _every_ _single_ time she would open the recipe book and gaze at the complex recipe ingredients.

She looked at Ikuto with a terrified look on her face.

And as he had done _every_ _single_ time, he simply smirked at her, and she suddenly had all the confidence she needed.

" 'Lamb Chops with Walnut Glaze.' How does that sound?" Amu questioned, suddenly excited about cooking for the first time in several years.

Amu felt arms wrap around her waist, and felt hot breathe blown against her ear as Ikuto whispered,

"Wake me up when it's ready."

Amu remained frozen, even after Ikuto's embrace drifted away from her. She shook off the tingle all over her body, and began to finally… cook.

It was so fun, she lost track of the time. It was already ten o'clock, and the lamb chops had just finished cooking. The whole kitchen smelled amazing – so many savory smells wafted through her nostrils, bringing back every memory she had of cooking. And every step of the way, she walked over to her bedroom and glanced through the open door at Ikuto's sleeping face – she smiled, and went back to her cooking. She was chopping the green onions to decorate the lamb chops with, when she suddenly felt a strong embraced wrap around her waist, and she felt a firm body behind her. She jumped at the voice in her ear.

"Smells good."

Amu unconsciously let out a small, quiet giggle, and finished chopping the onions with Ikuto's arms wrapped around her waist. The feeling was soothing, and his scent was intoxicating, and she could swear that he was falling asleep again, directly against her back.

Finally, she was finished, and she sprinkled the green onions overtop of the lamb chops.

She placed her creations on plates with a sprig of parsley in the center, and placed them on the 'dining room' table (which was actually in her kitchen). She marveled at her wonderful work. Ikuto stood inches from her face, arms folded, smirking at her.

"Told you so."

She blushed slightly, and reluctantly smiled back.

"Thank you, Ikuto."

And the two of them sat down and ate, smiling and chatting. Amu's mind reeled with happiness that she hadn't known in years. She was ecstatic.

All because of him. Ikuto Tsukiyomi.

_Thank you… so much, Ikuto._

* * *

_(A/N) - awww, more fluffy stuffy :D_

_kay. i know yah love this fluffy stuff, but it's gotta end soon. remember that. the angst comes. eventually._

_but remember, i don't do depressing endings. i always end things happy. it's my disney policy. :3_

_reeeevvviiieeewwwwwwwww :D_


	18. What's Inside My Head

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 17

* * *

Amu walked into work that day feeling strangely refreshed.

Lingering hints of her cold still bothered her, but she kept a small bottle of Tylenol handy in her purse. She still felt guilt and embarrassment over what had happened between she and Ikuto several nights ago, but at the same time, saw it differently than before – much differently.

It was a simple, innocent kiss. Nothing more. It's not like Amu hadn't kissed a man before, despite the… substantial amount of time that had passed since she had done so, and despite the fact that the man she kissed was the exact one she'd shared her very first and last kiss with all those years ago; the fact remained that it was just an innocent kiss.

Amu walked through the revolving door into Kyoko Magazine's main building, and walked with a brisk gait down the retro black and silver hallways, giving a curt, but pleasant nod to the receptionist at the desk. Her steps resounded through the halls with a _clip-clop_ sound emanating from her bright, rose-red Fioni heels. She smoothed out the skirt on her tiny black dress, and straightened the rose-red jacket over her shoulders. She clutched the Coach bag in her hand tightly, raising her head with pride and dignity that she didn't know she had.

Nothing could bring her down.

"AMU! Amu Hinamori, stop right where you are!"

…Or so she thought.

Amu did just that – she stopped right where she was. She rolled her eyes, feeling the headache coming back already.

"Miki, I don't have time for this, I have an appointment with the editor-in-chief guy," she paused, trying to conjure up a name, "that, uh, what's-his-face; Kairi Sanj –"

"I want to know every detail imaginable about the hot guy on the phone," the blue-haired firebrand said snappily.

Miki had cut Amu off directly, shoving her mock-designer-brand glory directly in Amu's face. Her short, baby blue hair framed her round, petite face, and her bright blue eyes were like flames themselves that cut directly into Amu's soft, golden eyes. She had her hands on her hips, and a playful glare was dancing in her aquamarine eyes.

Amu rolled her eyes.

"He's not hot," she muttered under her breath, finding it somewhat hard to say aloud, "and furthermore, he's not my boyfriend."

"Then what the heck is he doing in your apartment?"

"He's temporarily staying at my apartment because he has –"

"He called in sick for you, Amu! How many men do you think would do that?"

"Miki, he's just a –"

"You've got to give me a description, honey. And since when did you start dating again?"

"I already told you, I'm not –"

"He sounded so cute over the phone; I couldn't get over it. What's his name?"

"I'm not so sure you want to –"

"Does he have any cousins?"

Amu halted, stopped objecting, and simply listened to Miki rambling on and on and on about this mysterious "boyfriend" of hers. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself about the fact that Ikuto did, in fact, have a cousin, who apparently knew Miki well without her own knowledge, and who referred to her, with a smirk, as the "hot blue-haired chick." However, seeing as how Amu currently could not get a word in edge-wise, she waited patiently for Miki to pause and at least take a breath.

The opportunity came, and Amu placed a hand in front of Miki's face.

"Enough."

Amu smirked, and haphazardly decided to go out on a limb. She leaned forward.

"Ikuto Tsukiyomi."

Then, she whirled around, entering her office and shutting the door in the shocked face of Miki Hayashi. Amu smirked confidently to herself.

She was sure to regret that later.

But at that moment, it felt _so_ good to say it.

-0-0-0-0-

"…Then I slammed the door in her face. It was quite satisfying, actually."

Nagi let out a wholehearted laugh, and Amu joined him after finishing her explanation of the morning's events. He stopped laughing, and looked at Amu with a smile in his deep brown eyes.

"That's our Miki," he said with a chuckle.

"Got that right." Amu rolled her eyes with a smirk.

She removed the lid from the carry-out box she had saved from a restaurant, and smiled at the contents – lamb chops and rice. There were plenty of leftovers from her feast last night, and Ikuto was probably at home eating it for lunch as well. Her heart grew warm just at the thought of their pleasant evening at home last night.

No perverted teasing from Ikuto; no embarrassed stuttering and blushing from Amu. It was as if their worlds intertwined that night, and everything was calm and relaxed. It was as if they were old friends again, before all the romance, before the love, before falling for each other – _before_ she turned 14. Their playful banter and the inside jokes that slowly came back to them were full of warm nostalgia that Amu couldn't help but feel comfortable around. For one night, she wasn't convincing herself that she needed to stay away from him – she was convincing herself to let him in.

"You've got quite a feast, there, Amu." Nagihiko's brown eyes widened at the amount of food in front of her. "Where'd you go last night?"

Amu shook her head. "Nowhere. I made this."

Nagi's eyebrows rose.

"Really? Can this be? Did Chef Hinamori finally overcome her temporary cooking complex?"

Amu smirked, and gave him a playful punch on the arm.

"Yep. I cracked open the recipe book and broke out the frying pans for a change." Amu took a bite of her meat. "It surprised me how good it turned out after such a long time."

Nagi looked at her with a gentle, contemplative smile, noticing every detail in the smile on her face _and_ in her eyes. Only months ago, she had come whining into his shoulder about how much she missed cooking, and how much she wished she still could. But, alas, her talent in cooking had gone out the window – with Ikuto. But now she was raving about the masterpiece she'd cooked with perfection only last night, when, coincidentally, Ikuto happened to be staying in her apartment.

"I started painting, too," Amu said quietly, a small smile and a blush shimmering on her face.

"Really?"

"And… dancing. I started to dance again."

"You're kidding." Nagi's jaw dropped playfully.

"Nope."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Impossible!"

"Stop looking at me like that!" Amu laughed, blushing.

Nagi smiled at her, taking her hand and staring deeply into her vibrant, dancing golden eyes. It nearly took his breath away how much more they sparkled now.

"That's wonderful, Amu. I suppose you've found your hidden talents again, eh?"

Amu nodded, smiling.

"It's a lot of fun – I never realized how much I loved doing all that stuff. I can't believe what I was missing all throughout college."

"Now I'll have an easier time persuading you to assist me at my mother's dancing school," Nagi winked.

Amu let out a genuine, unmistakably warm laugh in the small café, giving Nagi a warm feeling in his heart. It had been a long time since his best friend Amu had been so genuinely happy. He could see stars dancing in her eyes again – he could see the pearly white teeth in her smile again. He knew why she was so happy, too. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

"So, Tsukiyomi's really had quite an effect on you, Amu. I can tell how much you still love him."

…

_That_ was what he _tried_ to say.

Instead, he simply smiled and stated, "I'm so happy for you, Amu. I can't believe it."

She returned the smile, and all Nagi could do was marvel at her newly found happiness, while inside his heart was slowly melting. He sighed to himself, careful to keep his feelings from displaying on his face, as always.

Nagi had never been able to make Amu laugh the way she was now. He'd never been able to bring her vibrant honey-golden eyes back to life. And as many times as he'd tried, he'd never accomplished reviving Amu's lost talents.

Only one man was capable of doing so in her life. And if Nagihiko couldn't bring Amu utter joy and happiness in life, he had no right to deserve her.

Nagi cursed himself.

_All the more reason for _his_ imperative victory – not yours._

"Amu…" Nagihiko started.

Amu looked at him, cheeks full.

"Hm?"

Nagi tucked a flyaway strand of navy hair back into his low ponytail, and looked solemnly at her.

"Tell me something."

"What?" Amu swallowed a bite.

Nagi sighed.

_Do you still love him?_

"Can I try a bite?"

Amu chuckled.

"Of course, silly."

Nagihiko tried it. It was… _delicious_.

And from that moment on, Nagi felt differently about his best friend Amu – a love that was once so confident and strong had turned into a love that he was sure could never, ever be returned. He finally realized and readily admitted that Tsukiyomi Ikuto had more honor and dignity than Nagi gave him credit for. The man had Amu spellbound, and that in itself was an accomplishment that could not be trifled with.

Nagi sighed.

It truly was time to let go.

"So tell me, Amu, what did you paint?"

For the rest of the lunch hour, Nagihiko Fujisaki, a man who had once vowed to make Amu love him and not anyone else, was scheming ways to stimulate a relationship with her and another man whom he once despised. He was surprised at how easily it came to him, considering the passion and depth of his love for Amu all of these years. He simply smiled and nodded away, vaguely listening, and thinking deeply of any possible way to join the two past lovers together again.

He sighed inwardly.

_Oh, Nagihiko… how you change in a matter of minutes._

-0-0-0-0-

"S-something wrong, Miss Hayashi?"

Miki snapped out of her troubled trance, and looked up at Su Yoshida with a puzzled expression.

"Forget about it." She waved a hand dismissively.

Su nodded obediently. She set down a cup of coffee on Miki's desk, and was about to walk away, when suddenly, Miki looked up at her and blurted,

"Did Amu ever tell you she was seeing someone?"

Su gasped.

"Miss Hinamori is seeing someone?" A look of awed realization crossed the young intern's face. "So that's why she looks so happy…"

"WHAT?" Miki snapped, standing abruptly from her chair.

Su tapped her chin thoughtfully, nodding to herself, oblivious to her superior's spastic behavior.

"Yep. That's definitely why."

"Happy? _Amu_?" Miki was baffled.

"Definitely. She's got this dumb look on her face all the ti – I-I m-mean, she seems very deep-in-thought and very distracted," Su babbled nervously, "a-and she hums sometimes…"

Miki thought for a moment, sitting down on the edge of her office desk and tapping her chin with a pencil. She never used pens – she hated doing work in pen, because she couldn't erase imperfections, and that was intolerable for Miki Hayashi, artist extraordinaire.

"Hums sometimes, eh?" Miki smirked. "Boy, she's love drunk."

"That's _totally _what I thought," Su beamed, clapping her hands excitedly. "I'm seriously wondering who the guy is though, because sometimes she doodles hearts all over this name on her paper – uhh, I-I mean, Miss Hinamori has her own p-personal life, which should not be b-bothered…"

Miki shook her head, placed a hand on Su's shoulder, and stared deeply into her clover-green eyes.

"This is not bothering, Su. This is prying – with affection, of course."

Su made a small "o"-shaped sound, and nodded.

"Tell me, Su, what name does she write on her paper?"

"I couldn't read it very well from upside-down," the green-haired intern sighed, "but I did catch the first couple letters. It was something like, T-S-U-M… or maybe it was a G…"

Miki froze, aquamarine eyes wide and alert.

"A… K, maybe?"

"Oh yeah! It was T-S-U-K-something… I don't know of anybody's name that starts with that, unless she's dating my cousin's ex-husband whose name is Tsukasa, which would be awfully strange…" Su mumbled with a puzzled expression on her chubby face.

Miki was quiet for a moment, and then a look of utter shock came upon her face.

"I don't believe it."

"What?"

"She really meant it."

Su's excitement was taking over. "WHAT?"

"SHH!"

"Sorry," Su whispered, blushing. "I-I baked pastries this morning. High carbs."

Miki motioned for Su to lean forward, and she did, curiosity displayed all over her face.

"Who is it?" She asked.

Miki was still in utter shock.

"I think our very own Amu Hinamori is dating a celebrity; she's seeing Ikuto Tsukiyomi."

-0-0-0-0-

"Tell him that if he wants his money back, he can get it off the bottom of the damn river!"

Hoshina slammed the cell-phone on the table firmly, and the men in his office jumped slightly.

He shot a venomous glare at the three suited men standing erect in front of his desk.

"What do you want?" He spat lowly.

The men were silent for a few moments, afraid of what may happen if they dared inform their livid boss of the bad news. At last, one agent stepped forward, and cleared his throat.

"We… we found no sign of Tsukiyomi Ikuto in East Seiyo, sir."

Hoshina let out a ravenous growl, and sent a stack of papers flying off his desk, slamming against the wall and floating through the air.

"Where **is **he?"

The old, malicious superior of Easter could _feel_ the fear in his agent's eyes, though hidden behind their dark sunglasses. Hoshina knew he should've chosen more reliable men; in other words, men who could kill without flinching or feeling guilt. He wanted to vaccinate them – make them immune to feeling, witnessing, and inflicting pain.

Hoshina wished he could find a cure to their utter _weakness_.

"You inspected all of his past affiliates' homes." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

"Yes, sir."

"You inspected them thoroughly."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Including that pink-haired female?" His teeth gritted together just speaking of the woman.

"Yes, sir. We inspected her apartment in downtown Seiyo under the instruction and supervision of Nakamur –"

The deep-voice agent stopped talking, and swallowed dryly.

_Yoru Nakamura. _

Suddenly, the loud reverberation of fist-on-skin echoed through the dark office room. A man in a black suit stumbled backward.

"Idiot," Hoshina seethed, retracting his fist.

The agent in the black suit that dared speak his mind was now regretting it, his jaw swelling with redness. He stood erect once again, keeping silent.

"Clearly Nakamura was hiding Ikuto from us –" Hoshina stopped inches from his red-cheeked face, and his voice grew guttural and angry; nearly demonic, "what makes you think he wasn't playing another damn trick on you?"

The three men remained silent, feeling ashamedness boiling in the depths of their guts. Hoshina's dark, sinister glare cut sharply through the dark glasses covering their frightened eyes. Abruptly, he turned around and stood at the window covering the wall of his office, overlooking the overcast city.

"Inspect that girl's apartment – thoroughly. Although idiotic, my stepson is not stupid, nor sloppy. He ran to her because he knew he wouldn't be found."

Hoshina's wrinkled face was plastered with a sly, cynical grin.

_Love has blinded you completely, Tsukiyomi. You have become weak to the world. _

"…Fool," he spat.

-0-0-0-0-

"I'm home," Amu sighed, to no one in particular.

She walked in the door, and slipped off her heels onto her makeshift doormat. She plopped onto the couch, quietly, so as not to disturb the possibly snoozing feline prince in her bedroom. She rubbed her aching feet.

About now, she would generally slip into comfortable clothing, snuggle on the couch with a bag of chips, some hot tea, and a fluffy golden retriever named Tucker, and proceed to watch soap operas for the remainder of the (once again) dreary day. But Amu hadn't done so recently – she had a houseguest that needed _special_ attention.

She jumped when she felt a tight embrace yank her back against the couch.

_Speak of the devil. _

"Afternoon, _Amu_." His warm breath tickled her ear.

Amu rolled her eyes, and yanked herself out of Ikuto's tight, warm, comfortable, _annoying_, affectionate, **annoying** embrace. She tried her hardest to simply brush off the tingle and remain as emotionless as possible as she stood and proceeded to heat the water kettle in the kitchen.

"I see you've been sleeping too long, as usual – it's clearly the evening."

Amu took a glance at the window, and her spirits immediately sank. The rain was pouring down more heavily now, and dark, menacing clouds billowed over Seiyo City. Amu cringed.

_Probably another thunderstorm. _

_Dammit. Not again._

Memories drifted through her mind of the last thunderstorm she'd spent with Ikuto; she cringed again. She prayed to every god out there that nothing so drastically heart-wrenching would happen to her again.

But the other half of her was praying to every god out there that Ikuto would hold her in his strong arms once again.

Along with those bittersweet memories came the plainly bitter memory of the agony and hatred in Hoshina Utau's eyes when she walked in on her brother and her best friend betraying her trust.

"Have you heard from your sister?" Amu said quietly, watching the kettle of water begin to quiver with pressure.

"No."

They remained silent. Guilt was sinking deeper and deeper into Amu's heart, straight to the pit of her stomach.

"But I don't blame her," Ikuto said.

Amu turned her head, only to be met with the heavenly, sparkling navy eyes and cunning smirk of Ikuto, mere inches from her face. His voice was low and husky.

"I'd be jealous too if I saw you with another man."

Amu's eyes were wide, and her cheeks blushed such a severe red she could swear they were turning a lovely shade of purple. Her body was stiff and erect, and try as she may, she could not remove her wide-eyed gaze from his seductive line of vision. Ikuto smirked deftly – and surely victoriously.

"Your water's boiling."

Amu snapped out of her trance instantly, hearing the screaming of the kettle. Flustered, she poured hot water into two mugs, mumbling this and that along the lines of "stupid, idiot, moron" rather incoherently. Ikuto chuckled amusedly at the sight, and flopped back onto the black leather couch lazily. Amu glanced at the couch briefly, grinned, and shook her head with disdain. As she dipped the teabags into the mugs, Amu heard a rather forceful slam of the front door to the two-floor flat. Ikuto sat up sharply, his eyes sharp and alert. Loud, boisterous footsteps blasted up the stairs to Amu's door.

Within seconds, Ikuto did a somersault off the couch, and locked the door quickly. Amu raised an eyebrow at his quizzical behavior.

"Ikuto, what are –"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

Ikuto put a hand to her lips gently. The look in his deep, midnight eyes was grave, serious; almost… frightened?

"Open up," came a booming voice from the hall, and a deafening pound on her door echoed through her apartment. "Police."

Suddenly it dawned on her. Amu flashed a frightened look at Ikuto.

"Ikuto," she whispered, "they've come; th-they've come f-for you…!"

Ikuto looked around her apartment quickly, pressured by the incessant barking and pounding from the halls.

"Yeah," he said lowly, "but those are no police."

Amu's heart raced. She felt panic and fear threatening to sink into her system, but she forced it out – this was no time for cowardice.

"Ikuto, you've got to hide!" She whispered, looking up at him with fear in her eyes.

Amu could see the visible tenseness in his veins and in his clenched fists. He stood erect for several moments, perfectly still, making no attempt to heed to her plea. She saw fear and panic bleeding through the ordinarily calm blue in his eyes. Amu walked toward him, clutching his arm with her shaking hands.

"Come on, you have to get out of here!"

There was a sharp _slam _against her door. They were kicking it down. Amu's panic heightened, and she screamed,

"Ikuto, **run**!"

At those words, Ikuto's stiffness snapped. Suddenly, faster than she could comprehend, he slipped his hand into hers, and pulled her behind him. There was no doubt about it.

They would run together.

* * *

_(A/N) - ta-da! suspense. yessss._

_okay, so today is 6/3/10. i just went back through every one of my chapters and added POV breaks (since fanfiction decided that my little "~*~" things weren't cool enough and just yanked them out) so yeah, that delayed the next chapter a bit. actually, i don't know how long it's been since i updated._

_sorry, my sincere apologies. it's summer now, however, so i'll definitely try to push myself to finish this story. like a personal summer project. :3_

_kay. look for the next chapter. if i might suggest, put me on your story/author alert, yes? that'll help._


	19. Will I?

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 18

* * *

_Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?_

_Will I wake tomorrow… from this nightmare?_

* * *

Amu's heart raced.

Ikuto took her by the hand and dragged her quickly into her bedroom, shoving her window open, sending a ferocious blast of thunderstorm air flooding through her bedroom. Amu's ears cringed when a loud _crack_ came from her front door. It would only be a matter of time before the door would be kicked to the floor, and Ikuto and Amu would be left defenseless against several angry and presumably violent men.

"Ikuto, what are you –?"

Ikuto was holding her hand tightly, and holding open the window. He looked at her with urgency and uneasiness in his deep blue eyes. Amu took a step back hesitantly and shook her head, fear overcoming her face.

"No," she whispered.

"We don't have much time, Amu."

"I can't." Her eyes were wide and fearful.

Ikuto glanced in the direction of the front door; another loud _crack_. He looked back at Amu with a tense jaw and grave, determined eyes.

"Please. _Trust_ _me_."

Suddenly, before Amu could blink twice, there came a loud _slam_ from her living room, and the ground she stood on shook violently. Ikuto gave her one last fierce glance, and punched the screen covering her window. Just when she thought he was going to release her hand and jump out the window, leaving her to fend for herself, he instead climbed out the window onto the roof, and pulled Amu with him. Amu was reluctant – but when she heard the men in her apartment shouting obscenities in threatening voices, she quickly complied.

She held his hand as tightly as she could, and he pulled her with all his strength. The window frame was slippery, and her bare foot slid against it. She swallowed a scream. She felt Ikuto's hand grasp hers tightly, and she regained her balance, hanging by one foot on the windowsill over the city streets far below.

"Keep going."

"Don't let go," she whimpered.

"I won't." Ikuto's voice was low and comforting.

Amu took a deep breath and let herself be pulled up by Ikuto's strong, warm hands. She instantly felt the cold night rain against her cheeks, but didn't stop to shiver. She clutched Ikuto's hand tighter as he quickly led her across the rooftop of her flat.

Her mind was jumbled in the chaos of the moment. She felt a wave of relief in remembering that Tucker was downstairs in Kuukai's apartment. She wondered – was Kuukai home? Did he hear the ruckus? What were those men doing to her apartment? How did they know where she lived; where Ikuto was?

Amu pushed all thoughts and worries aside and forced herself to focus on the task at hand –

_Run._

Ikuto pulled her by the hand, and they traversed the apartment's rooftop; when they reached another building, Ikuto climbed up the large step, and pulled Amu up behind him. She couldn't believe it. She was actually climbing across the tall rooftops of Eclipse Lane.

"Ikuto," Amu said breathlessly, "where are we going?"

Her voice was quivering almost as violently as her knees. _What is he thinking? And why is he running?_

"Why are those men after you, Ikuto? Why?"

It had never occurred to her before to ask the forbidden question. Ikuto had stayed at her apartment for a reason; he didn't want to be found by the police, by his stepfather, or by anyone. He was eluding something or someone, and when his cousin Yoru had arrived at the house, she assumed it was _not_ just for a friendly visit. Ikuto undoubtedly was hiding.

But why? And from what? Or rather, who? Amu needed answers – _now_.

She stopped running abruptly, and jerked on his arm, immediately feeling a sting of regret for possibly disturbing his scars.

"Ikuto!"

Ikuto stopped, and looked back at Amu. She glared at him with a fury she didn't know that she possessed in her being. The rain sunk into her skin, causing her temper to flare unconsciously. Her eyes sparked with golden fire.

"_Answer_ me!" she screamed.

Her eyes were filled with confusion and hurt. Her stomach suddenly ached, and she suddenly didn't want to run anymore. The rain poured down on them both, chilling her to the bone. She shivered violently, and held Ikuto's hand tighter than ever before. Her expression softened.

"What are you running from?" She whispered.

Ikuto stared into her eyes, with an expression so familiar to her.

They were the same exact eyes she had stared into… the day that he left.

The eyes that had haunted her for the next five years of her life; _tortured_ her with the regret of that day. She couldn't pull away – they looked so helpless, so confused; so vulnerable. His gaze was locked with hers, and for a fleeting moment she felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

_Don't look at me like that… _

Suddenly, a loud banter of angry shouting interrupted their melancholic reverie.

"They're on the roof!"

"Out the window!"

Quick, heavy footsteps pounded behind them, and they both whirled around to find men in black suits climbing out of the very same window that they'd exited from.

If Amu had not felt panic before, she felt it now; full-force, like a punch in the gut.

Suddenly, Ikuto did something that Amu had not expected – he placed his arm at her knees and lifted her in his arms. She felt small in his arms, and faster than she knew possible, he carried her like a feather across the rooftop.

Amu closed her eyes and clung helplessly to Ikuto's chest; it was the only form of safety she found. She tried her hardest to push the replaying image of falling off the rooftop out of her head. The adrenaline in her veins was pumping wildly, and her heartbeat increased with every hurried step Ikuto took across the rooftop. The men were behind them. They were being chased.

"They're gaining on us," Amu whispered breathlessly.

She wasn't even running, and she felt that breath had escaped her lungs. Terror and panic was consuming her. Ikuto said nothing – his jaw was clenched and his facial muscles were taut and firm, but Amu could see the fear in his eyes.

And as Amu stared into Ikuto's eyes at that moment, she felt a feeling that had been lost inside her for five years.

A loud gunshot rang out, bursting through her eardrums; Amu screamed and tucked her head between her elbows, tears springing to the corners of her eyes. That was the second time she'd heard a gunshot, and surely the sound was amplified somehow – perhaps a bigger gun – because she felt as if her ears bled.

"Th-they're shooting at us, Ikuto…" Amu whimpered softly, clutching the fabric of Ikuto's shirt tightly.

"Hold on."

Suddenly, Amu felt the gravity beneath her decrease rapidly.

They were falling.

_**Shit**. _

Amu closed her eyes and ducked her head into Ikuto's chest, letting out a scream. Ikuto's hold of her tightened, and he held her close to him until they landed on the hard cement ground abruptly. Amu opened her eyes and looked around.

He just jumped off a three story building with a girl in his arms, and was standing rigidly; hardly even affected.

Ikuto exhaled a long, weary breath, before immediately dashing out of the alley and onto the sidewalk of the suburbs.

The streets were dark and quiet – only the sound of rain _pitter-pattered_ inside Amu's throbbing head. Ikuto carried her across the street faster than she thought possible and quickly ducked into an alley, obscure and hidden from the viewpoint on the rooftops. The men in black suits were shouting something into the night, probably directed at Ikuto, and then it fell silent.

They heard nothing. No gunshots, no angered voices, no far away footsteps.

Ikuto slid down against the alley wall, holding Amu tightly against his chest. Amu could hear his heart pulsating wildly and his chest heaving with deep, exhausted breaths. She kept her eyes closed, tears at bay; breathing shallow and soft, letting the fear in her system dissipate slowly. The rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her to a calmer state. She still clutched her hand against his chest.

They remained that way for several moments, holding each other silently.

Finally, Ikuto loosened his hold on her, and gently placed his hand over hers, hovering over his chest.

"They must have turned back," he said lowly, sensitive in her ear. "They don't have enough men to track us down at night."

"Are you sure?" Came her quiet, meek reply.

"Yeah." Ikuto stood up slowly with her in his arms, and gently set her down on the ground.

Amu slowly and reluctantly pried herself away from his warm, comforting embrace, and unwillingly removed her hand from his. She suddenly felt the coldness of the light autumn night rain very vividly against her skin; followed by a strange sting of pain that seemed to stab her in the chest; followed by overwhelming numbness. Her mind was blank with the absence of comprehension of what had just taken place.

"So… they found you?" She said softly.

She hardly recognized the voice as her own; it was quiet and emotionless, and muted in her ears, blocked out by the gunshot's sting and the blood thumping loudly in her head.

Ikuto said nothing. He stared into the streets. Amu looked up at him, and found no trace of emotion on his face; he looked as if nothing had happened at all. But when he turned his face toward her, she saw everything he was hiding – in his eyes.

"…Yeah." He replied lowly, sorrow and fear piercing the clear, dark sapphire of his eyes.

Amu was afraid. She no longer thought of the safety of herself – she was not being hunted. She was not being tracked down by angry men with guns. Her stepfather did not own an important undercover corporation that possessed half of Tokyo. She had not been shot twice already trying to save a silly girl. She was not being stalked.

Ikuto was.

Amu was afraid for _him_.

"You have to go," she said suddenly.

Ikuto looked at her with his deep, dark, sparkling midnight eyes, filled with utter… emotion. She didn't know what it was, but before it could draw her in, she turned away. She folded her arms and hugged her body, trying to maintain her shivering from the cold night rain and from sheer fright.

She felt so… cold.

An unmistakable ache presented itself in her stomach, and she felt a lump in her throat. She could hardly breathe. She had planned everything she was about to say; she had rehearsed it in her head over and over again, feeling confident and strong, feeling unconquerable.

But that was before she'd looked into his eyes.

Now, she couldn't escape the fear that sunk into her system. She had no choice but to unleash everything within her all at once, praying that she didn't break down. She had to tell him. For the third and final time, she had to do what was best for him; no matter how she felt in the aftermath.

She took a deep, quivering breath.

"Y-you have to leave, Ikuto. …Now. Those men will _kill_ you."

He turned away from her, which stabbed her like a bullet through the heart. She could no longer see his smoldering indigo eyes; she wanted to avoid them, but she wanted to badly to gaze into them until she went blind.

The silence unnerved her. She couldn't do it.

_Hold me, Ikuto. I want you to hold me. _

She took a step back. She hugged her arms tightly; like a straightjacket.

_**No**_, _Amu_.

"You have to leave, Ikuto." She looked up at him, tears stinging at her eyes. "You have to _run_."

"I'm not running."

"_Godammit_, Ikuto!" She lost it. A tear streamed down her cheek. "Now isn't the time to be stubborn! You have to leave the city!"

"Forget it."

"_Ikuto_!"

"I'm **not** leaving you!" He yelled suddenly.

Amu jumped back. Ikuto's dark cobalt eyes flared and sparked in the dark night, burning holes in her eyes as he glared at her. She had not witnessed such determination in her lifetime.

Suddenly, the tears stopped. Her fear grew into something much more frightening – anger. She took a step forward now, no longer propelled to hold this creature; she wanted to slap him.

"Why _not_?" She snapped icily. "You've done it once already; I fail to see how someone like you can possibly feel guilt doing it a second time."

Ikuto's eyes narrowed. His face became suddenly dark; a shadow overcame his creased brow, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that veins protruded from his neck.

"…What?"

His tone was caustic and sharp. Amu did not back down. She took another step forward and trained her eyes on his chest.

"You never did care, did you? You spent your life not caring about _anything_. You never gave a –"

Then, she erred in the most significant way.

She looked at his eyes.

Immediately, her courage evaporated. Her fuming anger blew away. She felt weak and helpless beneath his tall, strong stature. She fell victim to the vacuum of his eyes; his wounded, vulnerable, hurt eyes.

Another tear streamed down her cheek.

"Why, Ikuto…?" Amu whispered. "Why did you leave?"

_Don't ask him. _

_Don't ask him the moment he's about to leave you forever. _

_You don't want to know, Amu. You don't want to know because you're afraid that it was because he didn't love you._

Another tear.

_No day but today._

"Why did you leave me alone?" she breathed, her voice brimming with unshed tears.

Ikuto kept silent for a moment. Amu was shaking. She feared the answer that he would give.

"To keep you safe," he said finally, ending her agony. He turned his face away from her. "From people like those."

His words were cold and unfeeling. Amu did not feel satisfied. She did not hear truth in his emotionless tone.

She did not believe him. She _could_ not believe him… not until she saw his eyes.

"Losing you is the _last_ thing that would make me feel safe," she cried, taking two steps toward him, resisting her unconscious movement to reach out and touch him. She harshly brushed the tears from her cheeks. "You left me _alone_, Ikuto!"

At those words, Ikuto looked up. He slowly turned his gaze to Amu. He stepped forward, feeling emotion distending in his emotionless heart. He couldn't determine it; therefore, he fooled himself into thinking it was anger.

"You think… you think I _wanted_ to?"

"I didn't know _what_ to think! You left me without a word!"

"I had my reasons," Ikuto said through clenched teeth.

"How do I know that reason wasn't that you _despised_ me?" She fought. "You left me alone to cry, to be reminded of you every damn day of my wretched life – does that sound like love to you? Did you really think I'd just forget?"

"I thought you'd be sensible enough to try," Ikuto said cynically. "Why would you want to remember anyone – …"

Ikuto stopped. He held his tongue.

_Stop trying to make excuses – there is no escape this time. _

"Anyone what? Anyone like you?"

"Anyone… that left you." Ikuto's strength was failing him.

"You want to know why? Because I couldn't _forget_," Amu spat bitterly. Her own words stung at her heart. "You have that effect on people, Ikuto – you drill into their brain so deep, it's impossible to get you out."

Ikuto stepped forward, aura scathing. His eyes burned with an emotion that Amu could not determine – the only emotion she could decode from his eyes was sadistic, acerbic hatred.

"Then why didn't I just leave before we got too attached, then, Amu?"

His voice sounded unfamiliar – low, sharp, cutting. It struck fear in Amu's heart.

She did not _dare_ let him see that fear.

Amu stepped forward, filling her gaze with a livid stare that was sure not to go unnoticed. She was angered beyond compare. She wished that he would disappear before her eyes – she didn't know how much longer she could stand being forced to gaze into his poisonous indigo eyes. She had never felt such contempt; such _hatred_ for another human being.

And yet still, the tears streamed down her face.

"You should've asked yourself that question _five_ _years_ ago," she snapped bitterly.

"So you're saying that you wish nothing had ever happened?"

"I wish that I'd never fallen in love with a man like **you**!"

Amu's voice cracked as she screamed the last blow to Ikuto's heart.

The rain poured down in light sheets, becoming the only sound to fill the ominous silence. The rain washed away the anger on their faces; it washed away the tenseness in their bodies. The rain caused them to breathe heavily, wearied of screaming and the distress plaguing their minds. The rain sliced through the thick tension in the air, filling the empty recesses of their mind with awareness. The rain covered the tears on her face, making him unaware of her true pain. The rain stung at his cold hands, taunting him with the fact that they were not to be warmed by hers.

Their locked gazes smoldered with a fire, however, that the rain could not extinguish.

Amu could not breathe. She could not control her actions. Quicker than a blink, she stepped back and walked away.

Just as quickly, Ikuto lashed out of his numb state and grabbed her arm. She stopped.

The contact held enough electricity to supply a city. Neither could see each other's expressions – they could not look into each other's eyes. Ikuto held the pink-haired girl's arm gently, hesitantly; his eyes read confusion, as if he was unsure of exactly what he was doing. For the first time in his life, he had truly acted upon impulse, and now he was at a loss. He did not know where to turn. But he knew that if he let her walk away, he'd never, ever forgive himself. _Never_.

Amu did not turn around – she did not dare look back. The tears poured down now, her jaw was clenched, and her throat burned with contained sobs. She'd lost every piece of her dignity but her self-control; she did not allow herself to break down. The guilt of everything she'd let out of her mouth was settling directly in the core of her heart like a black, wretched sin, and she was too stubborn to tell him… she didn't mean it. _Any of it_.

For what seemed like an eternity, time stood still. The two stood erect in their positions for several minutes, remaining silent; Amu did not attempt to wrench out of his grasp, Ikuto did not attempt to make any other movements.

Finally…

"Amu."

She bit her lip hard. The tears would not stop. Just the way he said her name gave her chills.

"Turn around."

He gently pulled her arm, ever so softly, and she complied reluctantly – she ducked her head low, hiding behind her hair. She did not have the courage to look at him; to show him her utter weakness. With the hand that held her arm, he gently rubbed his thumb over her cold, frozen skin.

And then, he said softly,

"…Say it again."

Amu choked on a sob. The walls of her composure were crumbling. She moved her hand to her arm, resting atop his, and the instant warmth flooded through her system like a bittersweet virus. She slowly began to shake her head, softly, until she finally broke down –

"I can't."

– and crashed into his arms.

Ikuto pulled her into his chest, wrapping her adamantly in his embrace, squeezing her until she could hardly breathe – but Amu didn't care.

She wanted to suffocate.

Amu wrapped her arms around his neck, sifting her fingers through his hair passionately, breaking into loud, tender sobs. She cried into his shoulder, letting out tears of every color and emotion she'd ever felt, and let herself fall victim to the warmth of his embrace. Ikuto wrapped his loving arms around her waist, holding her tight and close, burying his face into her neck. He stroked her hair affectionately, and felt relief as if she'd risen from the dead –

And she had.

Amu felt as if a five year burden had been lifted from her shoulders; she felt free. Free to cry on the shoulder of the man she loved in the pouring rain. Free to speak her mind without regret.

Free to lose every piece of dignity she had left and simply… _live_.

"Y-you told me," she pulled away and looked up at his face, "you t-told me once that y-you wanted me t-to live my life…"

He pressed his forehead against hers and nodded in remembrance. She bit her lip, letting the tears fall freely.

"…You're the only one that's ever made my life w-worth living."

Tears sprung to his eyes and he said goodbye to the sorrowful life he once knew; he placed a hand under the chin of the beautiful girl before him and kissed her.

Amu's heart soared. Her heart literally felt afloat, and for once it was not sunken with grief and despair – it soared. It twirled and danced inside her, and she felt like a teenager again.

A silly teenager in love.

She kissed him back, locking her arms around him, wishing to never let him go. Ikuto placed his hands on the sides of her face, gently wiping her tears away. The kiss was passionate, yet tame – fervent, yet gentle. Hungry, yet fulfilled.

The kiss was sheer magic.

Ikuto wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, spinning her gently around. Amu felt so inexplicably warm inside. All thoughts of the grey, dreary rain surrounding them had vanished; neither remembered why they were even in an alley in the first place.

All memories of the strife; the pain; the suffering they'd both endured for so long had washed away. The pieces of Amu's life had finally fit in their rightful place, and even the missing piece had returned. Ikuto's regret had washed away – when he'd left her, he'd made a promise that he'd find her again and make her his own. Five years ago, he thought he'd lost her forever.

He'd finally found her.

And he never intended to let go.

As the two lovers embraced and kissed each other in the pouring rain, feeling nothing but sheer warmth and love. The numbing cold had disappeared like a breath of snow beneath the fire that had just ignited in their kiss. No barriers were present to hold them back, but everything in the world seemed to propel them forward; toward each other.

They held each other for an eternity, making up for the time that was lost.

They both wished to cling to each other forever and a day, as long as time itself lasted –

As long as the never-ending rain that brought them together.

* * *

_(A/N) – oh my god. i just finished a chapter. _

…_CHAMPAGNE ALL AROUND. PARTAY. _

_great googly-moogly, that was the longest time i've ever made you guys wait for me to get off my lazy butt and write a chapter of this thing. i really give you my sincerest apologies. however, now that summer's started, i have much more time. :D hehe. _

_in writing this chapter (which, let me tell you, was an ORDEAL in and of itself) i found the greatest consolation in listening to the soundtrack of the greatest broadway show ever written – Rent. the song "Will I" was put on repeat and listened to at full volume over and over again, giving me the greatest inspiration i could ask for, not to mention putting me in tears several times. the lyrics are posted at the beginning of this chapter. all you rentheads – holla at me. send me a PM/review, let me know where my peeps at. :3_

_please put me on an author/story alert (along with reviewing) so that you can see when i post up new chapters of this thing. i hope it will be more consistent. _

…_:D i'm just so excited – for this, my friends, is where the true story begins…_


	20. Hide

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 19

* * *

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Positive." Ikuto placed a hand gently against Amu's back, leading her forward. "They'll never think to look back here so soon. From now on, they'll move slowly; they don't want to risk being found out."

Amu stopped, and looked Ikuto straight in the eyes.

"_Who_ will?"

Ikuto stared at her with gentleness and guilt in his deep, dark indigo eyes. Amu could barely see his features, only illuminated by a dim streetlight; the moon was covered by dark, stormy clouds. The rain had finally stopped for the most part – only a thin sheet of mist fell upon the soaked couple, already chilled to the bone by their adventurous escapade.

They had embraced each other in the rain for what seemed like hours, simply kissing each other and holding each other tight. They were too wrapped up in the seriousness of the moment to smile or giggle; and although tears streamed down Amu's face, she felt inexplicable warmth inside.

Finally, they remembered that they had just been chased out of Amu's home, and decided that they'd better take action in some way. They made their way back to Amu's flat, holding each other's hand tightly, being as silent as mice. Ikuto peered around the front of the building; there were no cars. Just in case, however, they made their way to the back of the alley and proceeded to sneak in through Kuukai's window.

_Boy, wouldn't he be surprised. _

Amu looked directly into Ikuto's eyes, trying to determine his emotions. They were at a high level, she could tell; she just didn't know what to think. He was _so_ good at hiding them.

"Who are we running from, Ikuto?" She placed her other hand over his, and brought it to her lips. "Please. Tell me."

Ikuto looked at her with a hint of sadness in his eyes. He brought her towards him, and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair, taking a deep breath. Amu let herself close her eyes, relishing his warm embrace.

"I'll tell you. Everything," he murmured quietly into her shoulder. "When we find a place to stay, I'll tell you everything."

For a few moments, Amu felt as if she'd fall asleep standing up; except she didn't feel as if she was standing. It was more of a floating feeling, as if she'd sprouted wings without knowing. But when he began trailing light butterfly kisses along her neck and her cheeks, she felt both exhilaration and sleepiness wash over her.

"Where can we stay?" She breathed.

"Somewhere they can't find us."

He broke away from her, and instant coldness washed over her body. Except her face – her cheeks still held a light blush, warmed by his hand resting against it softly. His other hand traced her hairline idly, brushing her soaked hair from her face.

"But first, you have to grab everything you might need. Quickly."

Amu nodded, leaning into his soft hand. She looked up at him, and seeing the pure affection in his eyes, she blushed. She felt him leaning forward, capturing the other side of her face with his hand, and tilted her chin up to meet his lips.

The kiss was soft, but deepened within seconds – Amu found herself enveloped in his strong, unrelenting arms once more, and raked her dainty fingers through his saturated indigo hair. Ikuto was careful to contain his passion; before he lost control completely, he removed his lips from hers, and stared into her glazed, dazed honey-golden eyes. Amu blinked a few times. Before she could fully regain consciousness, Ikuto pressed her body against him, tucking her safely and snugly beneath his chin and burying his head in her neck.

"God, I'll never get used to this," his voice was muffled in her neck.

Amu could feel his smirk against her skin. She was still slightly hypnotized – she, too, would take quite a while before getting used to… _that_.

Before she knew it, Ikuto pulled away and stared deeply into her eyes. Amu looked up into his deep, dark midnight eyes with a sense of bravery. She was left cold and wanting, but remembered that she had a job to do. She nodded with determination in her eyes.

"O-okay. Let's do it."

Ikuto smirked. They walked to a window on the side of the apartment building, high above the ground, and Amu looked at Ikuto expectantly. Ikuto simply smirked.

"What, you don't expect me to help you, do you?"

Amu rolled her eyes.

"Ikuto…" she drawled out his name with a grin.

Ikuto huffed, and swifter than she expected, he lifted her up into his arms like a feather.

"Fine."

He lifted her onto his shoulders, making Amu feel like a secret agent breaking into a facility. It also brought back nostalgic memories, and she looked down at him, smiling to herself. She felt like a kid again – a kid on her high-school crush's shoulders.

Amu knocked on the window softly. She knocked again. No one answered, and Amu saw the television in Kuukai's living room on. She rolled her eyes.

"He's probably asleep on the couch."

"Break in," Ikuto grunted. "And hurry up. You're hea –"

"Heavier than I look, I know, I know," Amu huffed irritably.

Ikuto smirked, and rubbed a hand along her calf ever so softly, nearly causing her to fall over.

She smirked. "Cheeky rascal."

She could feel the cheeky little smirk on his cheeky little face. Amu shook her head with a smile. When she finally got the window open, she whispered loudly,

"Kuukai! _Kuukai!_"

She looked down at Ikuto in desperation.

"I don't think he's even in there! What do I do now?"

"Jump in."

"What? Seriously?"

"Do you see any other options?"

Amu huffed. She placed both hands on the windowsill, and slowly began rising from her position on Ikuto's shoulders. She wobbled as she placed one foot on his shoulder, and just barely succeeding in placing the other foot on his shoulder with the help of the windowsill. Her bare foot slipped suddenly, and she let out a slight cry.

"I gotcha," Ikuto stated firmly, catching her foot in his hand.

"Thank you," Amu said quietly, smiling to herself.

Finally, she managed to quietly sneak into the windowsill, not really thinking of how she was entering head-first with no cushion below. Suddenly, she felt Ikuto release his hold of her.

"Ikuto!" She squawked, tumbling down to the floor with a loud _thud._

Almost automatically, Kuukai shot up from the couch with a dizzied, sleepy look on his face.

"A-Amu?" He said sleepily. "Why are you o-on my…"

"Kuukai, h-help me," she grunted, placing a hand on her aching tailbone.

Kuukai got up from the couch, and rushed over to Amu, grabbing her hand and helping her stand. He wore no shirt, causing Amu to blush a bit – soccer players were awfully well-built. He looked at her for a moment, and then his crooked grin broke through his sleepiness.

"Forgot your key, kiddo?" He looked her over once more. "Dang, you're soaked! What happened?"

Amu shook her head, remembering every event that had just occurred that evening; she had quite a bit to tell.

"Well, okay. So there were these –"

_Thud_.

Amu and Kuukai turned their heads swiftly, to find a tangled mess of Ikuto on the ground beneath the window.

Amu almost let out a giggle. She contained herself, however, and walked over to help him up, in which Ikuto threw her a crooked, rebellious smile and took her hand.

"Tsukiyomi?" Kuukai said in astonishment. "You're soaked too? What in the –"

"Kuukai, sit down," Amu said.

He gave her a raised eyebrow, before complying and sitting himself on his couch. Amu told him everything; from the angry men, to the guns and the chase and the leap from a three-story building – she left out the emotional ordeal in the alley – and left him looking astonished. His eyes were troubled.

"This… this is freakin' crazy."

Amu nodded. Suddenly, Kuukai looked up and grinned.

"Whoa, so you guys are like fugitives now?" He snorted. "Sweet."

Amu rolled her eyes.

"Kuukai, it's not –"

"I know, I know," he sighed, standing up from the couch. "It's not funny, is it?"  
His eyes suddenly rested between Amu and Ikuto, and he smiled again, more solemnly. Amu suddenly and vividly realized that she was still holding hands with Ikuto. She instantly blushed.

"But you guys seem to have gotten closer, haven't you?" His smile was genuine. "That's cool."

Amu looked away, embarrassment flooding her face. Ikuto squeezed her hand tighter, and laced his fingers between hers, as if telling her that it was okay. She smiled slightly.

"Well," Kuukai said, clapping his hands, "what do you plan to do now? Are you hungry or anything?"

Amu wasn't in the mood for food – her stomach still felt queasy and her head felt light from gallivanting all over the rooftops. Just the thought of it caused her mind to drift away, feeling more hunted and stalked than ever before. She was really hiding from a fundamentally FBI-like group. She was being hunted, and chose to run away with a love from five years ago.

Well, a lost love that had returned to her.

She felt dizzy just attempting to _comprehend_ what was to happen now.

"We've got to get going," Ikuto said, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was the first time she'd heard him speak since they'd entered Kuukai's presence.

Kuukai smirked. "Oh, right. Gotta find a place to stay, huh?"

"Do you know of anywhere we could stay for a while?" Amu asked.

He put a finger to his chin, and looked contemplative. It suddenly hit Amu that she'd said "for a while". What would they do after that? Were they really planning to continue running?

"I'd try Tadase's." The name brought an uncomfortable feeling to Amu's gut, and she could nearly feel Ikuto's immediate tense. Kuukai noticed, and immediately recovered. "O-or not… I mean, he's not the only one who lives alone. I would say try Yaya's, but she lives with her little brother; and Rima's basically gone all the time."

Kuukai then raised a finger.

"Nagihiko lives alone. He has an extra bedroom, and his apartment is bigger than most."

Amu nodded, slightly wary. She remembered the way Nagi had acted when he found out that Ikuto was staying at Amu's apartment. He seemed angry, though he did a good job of covering it up.

Amu sighed. It seemed to be the only way. And she was desperate to find a place to stay – she wanted to know why they were running. Ikuto promised to tell her everything, and she would hold him to that promise, no matter what excuse he conjured up to avoid telling her.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll ask him."

Kuukai smiled at her; it was the most genuine, concerned smile that Amu had ever seen emit from his mouth in a long time. He gave Amu a big, Kuukai-sized hug, full of brotherly affection. He grasped the back of her head, and rocked back and forth, and Amu nearly felt tears coming to her eyes. It was like saying goodbye – she didn't know when she would see him again, because she didn't know where she was going, or if she would return to that apartment ever again.

"Bye, Kuukai," she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I'll see ya, Hinamori," he said with a smile. "Be careful. …P-please."

That was the first time Amu heard the charismatic Souma Kuukai stutter – the most serious he'd ever been in his life. She nodded into his shoulder.

"Okay."

The two friends broke apart, and as Ikuto placed his arm around her waist and pulled her toward the door, Amu could've sworn that she saw Kuukai's eyes glazed with tears.

The door closed behind her before she could capture one last glance of Souma Kuukai.

Amu looked around at the lobby of her apartment that now held every one of her worst fears inside it. Ikuto's hold around her waist tightened.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Amu nodded, shaking off the images in her head. She held Ikuto's soft, warm hand; immediately, she felt a rush of determination rush through her veins.

"Let's go."

* * *

"We have found him, sir."

Hoshina Kazuomi stood up abruptly.

"You _what_?"

"Target was sighted. It is as you predicted – he is with the girl."

Hoshina looked down. Slowly, his shoulders began to shake. Suddenly, he broke out in sadistic, maniacal laughter that shook the walls of the empty, dark office. He could not see the trembling of his men. Hoshina turned around, and looked out the window of his office on the 23rd story. If he wanted, he could punch the glass and reach out to the black, ominous clouds, dragging them down to his office. His laughter died down.

"Where?"

"Eclipse Lane apartment development."

There was an eerie pause.

"Did they run?" His voice was no longer so jovial.

"Yes, sir."

Another deafeningly silent pause.

"Did you shoot at them?"

His voice was now low and raucous. The agents hesitated to answer. Finally, one brave soldier spoke up.

"Yes, sir."

He could hardly speak the words before Hoshina gave him a harsh strike to the face. The agent's sunglasses flew to the ground, and he kept his head down in humility.

"Idiots," Hoshina roared. "I want them both alive, not bleeding to death! You chase and shoot them, they escape from the city!"

Hoshina ran a hand through his graying hair, and exhaled through his nose. After several moments of silence, he laid a hand on his desk, and put his head down.

"Let them be."

"But sir, your orders were –"

"_Shut up!_" He growled. "I know of my orders!"

The men were silent. Hoshina paced the office slowly.

"Tsukiyomi is not stupid. He will run to a populous region of the city, where he knows we cannot move in towards him without being seen."

Finally, Hoshina sat in his chair, stroking his hair once more.

"Dismantle all forces on this task. Retract the street force. Do not send out any further men until further notice."

It pained him to give the orders to his men. The agents gave a salute, and filed out of his office one by one. Hoshina folded his hands beneath his chin, and stood from his chair once more, looking out the window at the grey skies with a contemplative look upon his face. He needed a plan, and fast.

He would not admit to it.

He would not admit that his stupid stepson had won.

* * *

"A-Amu?" Nagihiko rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Ikuto?"

Amu smiled faintly at her friend through the doorway of his apartment room. Ikuto waved nonchalantly. Nagihiko didn't know whether this was a dream or reality.

He invited them in wordlessly, simply holding open the door and watching them remove their shoes and stand idly in his living room. He blinked his tired eyes and scratched his head, thoroughly confused.

"Why are you… wet? W-what happened…?"

Amu almost let out a giggle. She knew how incoherent and zoned Nagihiko was when awakened from his sleep. However, she remained somewhat solemn, and set down her bag.

"Sorry, Nagi, I should've called… but, uh, well…"

"We need a place to stay."

Amu looked up at Ikuto with surprise. She didn't know exactly why she was surprised, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he almost never spoke in front of her friends.

Nagi looked a little more awake now.

"To stay?" He blinked a couple times. "O-of course, feel free. As long as you need."

Amu was also surprised by Nagihiko's answer. She wasn't expected that much cooperation without explanation.

Her male acquaintances were just _full_ of surprises today.

"Can I get you anything?" He stretched his back, and seemed slightly more awake. "Some tea, perhaps?"

Amu nodded. "Thanks."

"Please, have a seat," Nagi gestured to the couch.

Amu obeyed, sitting on the couch, while Ikuto simply leaned against the wall. She could tell that he was still slightly anxious. Amu set her small book-bag down on the ground, filled with a few pairs of clothes and a toothbrush. She was in such a hurry to pack, she didn't even think of anything else to bring – after all, they were being hunted by angry men with guns, and Amu didn't think she had much time to pack everything she wanted. However, she did stuff her favorite pack of gum – not her favorite _type_, her favorite _pack_ of gum that she'd had for at least 14 years of her life – into the book-bag, sort of as a lucky charm.

Basically, she was completely and utterly unprepared. And now, she had popped in on her friend, hoping to stay as long as necessary to get the FBI-people off their tails.

She mentally smacked her forehead into her palm.

She was so _screwed_.

Nagi came back with the tea, and both she and Ikuto drank the steamy liquid. It did a significantly better job at calming Amu's grating nerves.

"So…" Nagihiko looked at the two polar opposite humans. "How are things going?"

Amu knew that he was dying to ask the question.

"You mean, why are we here?" She looked at him accusingly.

Nagi smiled guiltily. "That would be nice to know."

Amu sighed, and looked at Ikuto, the man of few words. He nodded to her, and if signaling that it was alright to share. Amu knew that he had some thinking and pondering to do – after all, he had to plan his speech that he was going to give her about how all of this mess began.

She was inwardly excited, yet terrified for that moment.

Amu turned to Nagihiko, and told him the whole story in a nutshell – she left out a few details, she made it sound not quite as serious as it was, and she especially left out the guns – if she told him everything, he'd most likely hyperventilate and call the police before the two runaways could stop him.

_Then again_, Amu thought, _why aren't we calling the police? _It would do a hell of a lot more good that just running around everywhere from angry men with guns.

Yet another question she planned to ask him later.

"Wow," Nagi stood up, and ran a hand through his long hair. "Oh… my."

"We only need to stay here a while," she ventured to say, looking at Ikuto for some sort of approval, "though I'm not sure how long."

"Of course," Nagi said confidently, pulling himself out of his shock. "Stay here as long as you need. My home is at your disposal."

He told them of the extra bedroom he had, told Ikuto that he could borrow any clothes that fit him, and told Amu that he would make accommodations and grant her anything she needed.

"You two must be exhausted." He gestured to their wet appearances, and said, "There's a fireplace in your room where you can warm yourselves, and I can take your wet clothes to dry."

Nagihiko gave Ikuto a simple white t-shirt and jeans, that seemed to fit him fine. He gave Amu a t-shirt that was, of course, much too big for her, but she slipped leggings on beneath it and made herself makeshift pajamas.

As Amu sat in front of the fire, curling her legs up to her chest and basking in the heavenly warmth, she shifted her gaze to Ikuto. He looked unbelievably solemn, staring intently at the fire, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. The flames' reflection danced in his dark, midnight eyes, and for a moment, Amu wondered if it was the right time to ask.

"Ikuto…" she started quietly.

"I know."

He looked at her intently, nodding his head slowly.

"I made a promise."

Amu smiled softly, glad that he remembered. She knew he was probably reluctant to tell her everything, and she also knew that she was somewhat reluctant to hear it. Did she really want to hear everything?

But it was too late to turn back now. Ikuto took her hand in his, and looked her directly in the eyes. He leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against hers. She held her breath. Ikuto kissed her lips ever-so-softly, as if he was hesitant – almost scared.

His whisper was low and soft. "You deserve to know."

* * *

"You will say absolutely nothing," Dia Misaki said quickly, her tone matching her quick pace down the hall. "No interruptions."

Seiichiro followed close behind. "Yes, Miss Misaki."

"This is my chance; don't you _dare_ screw it up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will say absolutely nothing about the stupid rat in the basement." Dia grinned maliciously. "I've got a better plan."

"Yes, Miss Misaki."

She whirled around suddenly, livid. "Stop saying that!" she snapped.

"Ye –" Seiichiro stopped.

He simply nodded. Dia sighed.

"_God_, Seiichiro…" she whined. Seiichiro knew what was coming. "Loosen up. You're so… uptight. Tense."

Her tone suddenly became low and seductive, and a slow smirk crossed her thin lips. She pressed her hands against the lapels of his jacket, and rubbed his shoulders, all the while pressing her body closer and closer to his.

"You know, I like having you as my own personal hitman," she said lowly, grinning. "You're so… _sexy_."

She pressed her leg _up_, and Seiichiro gulped nervously. She knew full well what she was making him do.

"I wouldn't want to throw you away. That would be _such_ a shame."

She traced her reptile-like tongue along his bottom lip before kissing him full on the lips. Seiichiro's body went numb; she could feel it. Dia smirked against his lips.

She pulled away, and pressed her dainty, manicured index finger against his lips.

"So just _shut_ _up_," she whispered seductively. He felt her breath s close against his lips. "I will not have my entire career ruined by a stupid servant boy. Your only part in this plan is to fulfill the tasks which _I _give you - nothing else. Thus, I do not want another word to emanate from your mouth… ever again."

She kissed him once more – unforgettably.

"Understood?"

Seiichiro did nothing; after several moments, he nodded, eyes glazed. Dia let out a wicked laugh.

"Wonderful."

She pulled apart from him entirely, knowing full well that he would trail her heels wherever she went, no matter what. When she stood in front of the two large double-doors, she stopped, knowing full well that he would rush forward to open the doors for her. When she went inside with him trailing behind her…

"Good evening, sir."

…She knew full well that he would not interrupt her perfect plan to bring Tsukiyomi _down_.

_

* * *

_

_(A/N) – NOOO!_

_hup-hup – Dia's gonna ruin it all. you just know it. _

_actually, no, you don't just know it… cuz i don't even know it yet :3_

_lord almighty... i'm just gonna be honest with you, i am NOT very faithful about updating, as you can probably see. jeez, i'm really sorry. i know i'm terrible about it. but, contrary to popular belief, i DO have a life outside of . so, my apologies. _

_seriously. insane apologies. HOMEMADE SORRY-COOKIES FOR EVERYONE! _

_but anyway, how did you like the chapter? can somebody say "REVIEW- err, CHEESE?" yep. you can probably guess what's on my mind right now._

_review! yes. yes? yes. _


	21. Confession

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 20

* * *

Amu was beginning to feel the guilt sink into her system as she stared intently at Ikuto's eyes.

His face was only inches from hers, and their foreheads were pressed together gently. Amu had kissed him once more, then dared to open her eyes – biggest mistake she'd ever made.

His midnight blue eyes were filled with the most sadness and sorrow she'd ever seen him display. They were glazed over with the distant look that he got when he was remembering something painful; she'd seen it all too many times. The flames of the fireplace reflected and flickered in his eyes – like a midnight ocean on fire – licking at her conscience and burning inside her, punishing her for pressuring him to tell her _everything_.

She felt nervous butterflies in her chest just at the thought.

Ikuto had never told her hardly anything about his past. His childhood was one big blur – even he claimed not to remember most of it. The only things she knew were that his father had disappeared when he was young, and his mother had died when he was a teenager. His little sister was a famous, well-to-do singer who could take care of herself.

But she knew that there was _so_ much more than that.

There was detail in between the cracks and crevices of his simple background. And if her assumptions were correct – if she could read his eyes as well as she thought she could – she was about to hear about them.

Ikuto pulled back, and sat back in his chair. The white t-shirt he had recently donned was in stark, bright contrast to his dark blue features; his porcelain moonlight skin was transformed to a creamy, tan color. Amu looked at their intertwined hands, and watched his thumb idly stroke the back of her hand. His voice was low and even.

"It all started a really long time ago."

Those were the words that he'd chosen to begin the story with. Amu could not have felt more guilty now – he looked and sounded _pained_. He was drudging up thousands of painful memories, about to unleash them to a simple girl who had no right to know.

She wanted so badly to know what he was hiding… but she couldn't.

"It was in about 1970, I think."

"You don't have to tell me," she suddenly blurted.

Ikuto looked at her with slight surprise. Amu shook her head back and forth, holding his hand in hers. She tried to avoid looking him in the eyes, which seemed to be her downfall every time; but she was positive that the look of guilt on her face gave away everything.

"I-I know you don't want to," she said quietly. "It must be hard to talk about your past. You don't have to tell me… anything."

She felt a gentle touch of fingers beneath her chin, and couldn't say she wasn't expecting it when Ikuto gently tipped her face up to look at him.

But what she didn't expect was for him to suddenly pull her forward into a kiss.

It was gentle and soft, but not hesitant or reluctant – he _meant _to do it. She found herself wide-eyed for a partial moment –then, winding her arms around his neck, twirling his hair into her fingers. His hands rested gently against her cheeks; she felt protected and secure.

He released his lips from hers, and cupped her cheek in his hand and grasped her shoulder with the other. She looked into his eyes to see care; deep compassion and genuine gentleness.

"I want to." He kissed her forehead softly. "I do."

He looked her directly in her honey-golden eyes, sparkling with a touch of fire. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the adorable look of concern on her face; she would always bring out the best in him at the worst of times.

"Are you sure?" She asked quietly, placing her hand softly over his hand on her cheek.

Ikuto was not about to turn her down, no matter how killed inside he felt.

"Positive," he whispered, smiling.

He would tell her _everything_.

"In the 70's, my stepfather met a girl. Her name was Souko Takahashi," he said, clutching both of Amu's hands, turning his gaze to the fire. "Hoshina was practically insane for the girl, but she was in love with Aruto Tsukiyomi. When Souko and Aruto announced that they were going to elope, Aruto asked Hoshina for some money. Hoshina was angry; but nevertheless, he gave his friend some money, and watched the married couple sail away. Aruto promised that he would pay him back."

Amu digested everything slowly. He was starting _way_ back – to his parent's story? She couldn't help but wonder this story tied into everything in the end, but listened nonetheless.

"Years passed. Aruto's face appeared on every magazine cover, on every channel – he was a famous violinist. He and Souko had a kid. Hoshina saw them on TV every day, and as the years went on, he grew more and more angry. Eventually, he just lost it; that's when he got crazy with money and power. Then one day, Aruto Tsukiyomi… disappeared."

Amu gulped. She clutched his hand tighter. Up until this point Ikuto had spoke in a clear, low, even tone, remaining stoic and expressionless – utterly calm and collected. Now was when the story became hard to tell. Ikuto's expression became angry.

"He didn't disappear," he said in a lower, more caustic tone. "He ran to Hoshina."

Amu's eyes widened. She had _not_ seen that coming. She had no idea…

"Aruto heard that Hoshina had become a business tycoon – naturally, he wanted more money." That was when Ikuto's expression took a sharp turn for the worse. "Hoshina beat the hell out of him and kicked him out."

"Oh my god…" Amu whispered, in shock.

"A couple months later, Hoshina went to see Souko." Ikuto continued relentlessly. "He knew she was having a hard time caring for her son with her insufficient funds, and no husband to bring home money. So, he made her an offer – she would marry him, and she would have all the money in the world."

His eyebrows were taut and creased in sheer anger.

"She accepted," he growled lowly. "For her son. Like Hoshina promised, they had all the money in the world. They had a daughter, too. Everything was going exactly as he planned. The boy took up the violin; the girl took up singing. More money for him. Souko did nothing but sit around all day and cry; he didn't care, as long as she didn't get in his way. Everything was going _perfect_ for him."

"Ikuto…"

Amu stroked his hand gently, slightly fearful of the expression cast upon his face. He stared into the licking, smoldering fire with a look of sheer hatred; the same look she'd seen on his face when Yoru had come to call. Amu was beginning to feel colder as the minutes progressed, despite the heat of the slow dying fire.

Amu realized, staring at his expression, that if Ikuto had held this inside him any longer, his hatred would have distended into his heart and melted, leaving a permanent scar. Amu, too, began to feel the hatred that he felt toward the man that was his stepfather – Kazuomi Hoshina.

Suddenly, his expression of hatred dissolved into no emotion at all. His eyes glazed over. His tone grew flat.

"Then, Souko died."

Amu felt a heavy burden on her heart as he spoke the words. She remembered so distinctly the exact moment that he'd heard the news, and remembered how he'd dealt with it – not a tear spilled from his eyes. He felt nothing but anger; at least, that was the only emotion he'd shown her.

But now, as he turned his head toward her, she could see the true sadness in his eyes. Deep in his dark, dark irises, there was an emotion he refused to show anyone – hurt. Sadness.

His mother's death had affected him after all.

"Hoshina couldn't cared less. After her death, he saw no reason to treat his children civilized anymore. As of that moment, they became his _slaves_."

Ikuto's body tensed suddenly, and his eyes narrowed, blazing with anger and fire.

"But Aruto came _back_."

His hand squeezed Amu's tighter than ever.

"Hoshina held a debt over his head. He told him that the reason Souko died was because she grieved day and night about his disappearance. He pretended like he cared about her. Hoshina drilled it into his brain until he couldn't take it anymore. Aruto… he just lost it. He went numb." Ikuto's jaw clenched, his voice quieted. "He couldn't even look his son in the eyes."

Ikuto finally looked at Amu, and faced her directly. His expression softened – his anger dissolved.

"Hoshina put my father in captivity and told me that if I'd do whatever he wished if I wanted my father to live. I was 20. You were 16."

Amu felt a heavy feeling in her chest. Her eyes widened. _Could he be…?_

"Hoshina was taking his business abroad; he told me I was to go on tour. He told me to leave all distractions and acquaintances behind, or he would remove them forcefully. I was to cut myself off from the life I knew." He clutched both of her hands in his own. "I came to your house and tried to persuade you to come with me. I knew that if you didn't, I'd never be able to speak to you again – Hoshina would track you down and kill you."

Amu's throat constricted. Her stomach clenched into a knot. The weight hit her full-force, dragging down her heart. Ikuto cast his gaze to the ground, clearly distraught.

"If I'd stayed in Japan, my father would die. Everyone I knew would be hunted down and taken until I decided to join Hoshina and receive the company someday. I… I didn't know what to do..."

Suddenly, Ikuto found his shoulders crushed beneath a flying embrace, and rush of strawberry scent wafted through his nose. Amu wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing as tight as she could. She pressed her head against the back of his neck, tears streaming down her cheeks. She let out soft sobs, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her tiny hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, choking on her sobs. "I'm so, _so_ sorry…"

She felt cold and guilty; the fire's warmth no longer warmed her – Ikuto's arms did. Every feeling of hatred she'd ever felt for the violinist for leaving her five years ago came rushing back to her at the speed of light, and the guilt melted upon her heart. Every moment she'd spent blaming him for everything, every time she'd heard his name and was overcome with sorrow; she couldn't stop the tears from falling, and she didn't want to.

He'd been protecting her.

"All along," she whispered, "a-all those years… I-I thought…"

Ikuto gently hushed her crying, holding her and gently kissing her neck. Her stood from his chair, and held her close, gently trailing a hand up and down her back, rubbing it softly. He placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair tenderly.

"I should've told you," he whispered lowly.

"I should've just believed you!" She cried, pulling back and looking into his eyes with guilt and shame. "I should've known th-that you wouldn't… y-you'd never…"

Ikuto placed his hand on the back of her neck, and brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking into her eyes.

"I would never just leave you," he said softly, tenderly.

Amu smiled softly, sniffling. She looked down, embarrassed by her tears. Ikuto lovingly brushed her moist cheeks with his thumb. Boldly, Amu placed her hands on the sides of his face, and leaned up on her tip-toes.

She kissed _him_.

She kissed him long and hard, pouring out every ounce of passion that had built up for five long, painful years. Ikuto seemed surprised, but quickly complied, and dipped her back. Amu felt like she was floating atop the highest clouds – among the moon and stars, fireworks and meteors and cosmos exploding around her. She put her arms around his neck, and held on for dear life as he dipped her back and pulled her forward; she felt like she was on a roller-coaster ride.

They pulled away and Amu wasted no time in flinging herself into his embrace again.

"Thank you," she whispered breathlessly, smiling ear to ear.

"Anytime," Ikuto laughed, overwhelmed by the passion she'd just exerted.

Amu felt warmth again, hearing Ikuto's laugh. It had been so long since heard his real, genuine laugh, and when she pulled away and looked him in the eyes, she saw true, real happiness in his smile.

She felt like she would overflow with joy.

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, and all the joy disappeared in a blink. Ikuto's joyous expression vanished just as quickly.

"What's wrong?"

Amu looked worried. The uncomfortable weight on her heart came back. She encountered his eyes, and almost hesitated to ask.

"What about your father?"

Ikuto released his hold of her, suddenly looking very grave and angered. Amu cursed herself – but she had to ask. She was worried for him.

"You said that if you ever left Easter, your father would be k-killed."

Guilt settled in her chest once more. Ikuto looked overcome with sadness and trepid anger. Amu couldn't help but think the worst - _was he dead?_

He looked as if he was about to say something, when suddenly, a door opened and burst of light flooded the dark room.

* * *

Dia Misaki stood erect in the dark, ominous office, awaiting an answer; some sort of reply.

"Trust me, sir. You will have Tsukiyomi in the palm of your hand," she said calmly.

Hoshina rubbed his chin contemplatively. The tiny hairs on the back of Dia's neck stood on end – he was trying to make her crack and run away, crying. But she would not let him see the anxiety inside her. Hoshina stood from his chair, and let out a low chuckle.

"It's perfect."

Misaki felt a surge of success rush through her veins.

"Notify the corporation to set the date on every calendar. Prepare a task force capable of a small, discreet operation. Do not send out any search parties until that day."

"Yes, sir."

Hoshina grinned maliciously.

"Congratulations, Misaki. Tell Sanjou to get the hell out of here – we've got a new female supervisor."

Misaki smirked.

"Thank you, sir."

"Now get out," he barked.

Misaki whirled around, and waited for Seiichiro to open the large double doors. She exited the office, and clip-clopped swiftly down the hall with her shoulders back, grinning.

"Thank you, Seiichiro…" she said lowly; menacingly. She turned to him and kissed his lips swiftly. "…for going to high school."

* * *

"Well, your clothes are dry, and I've made up a bed for – oh," Nagihiko walked in the room with a pleasant expression that soon transformed into surprise.

Amu and Ikuto stared at him, blinking.

"I-I'm sorry, I've interrupted –"

"It's alright," Amu reassured him, although she was hoping that he'd arrived just a _moment_ later.

_At least we hadn't been kissing or anything,_ she thought with relief. She took a look at Ikuto. He still seemed trapped in the moment that Amu had presented to his thoughts; his father. She wished she could ask him right now, but she knew that it would only bring up painful memories again. She'd heard enough for one night; Ikuto had confessed enough for one night.

"My apologies," Nagi smiled. "If you like, your room is ready, and the bathroom is just attached."

Amu smiled at him, and ushered for Ikuto to come with her. They both walked out the door, into the cold hallway, and Amu missed the warmth of the fireplace, but she also was tired beyond belief. She looked at a clock as they were passing the kitchen; 4:24 a.m. Before they entered the room, Amu turned around and smiled at Nagihiko.

"I'm so sorry for troubling you so late," she said worriedly.

Nagi waved a hand in the air. "It's no trouble at all – I'm always there for you when you need me, remember?"

Amu nodded, and hugged him softly.

"Thank you, Nagi."

"Anytime, love. Now get some sleep; you've had quite a rough night," Nagi said, smiling.

Amu nodded again, and smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Nagihiko."

"Goodnight, Amu," he said softly, and Amu could've sworn she heard a trace of sadness in his voice.

Amu entered the room, closing the door behind her. She turned around, and nearly had a heart attack.

"Oh my g-god," she whispered, luckily subdued.

Amu stared in shock at the well-defined muscles in Ikuto's back. Luckily, he didn't hear her sudden outburst, and she slithered off to the bathroom before he could catch her blush. _He's GOT to stop randomly removing his shirt_, she thought, trying to snatch herself out of her fluster. She closed the bathroom door halfway, and removed her leggings from under the massive t-shirt that reached half-way down her thighs. The sleeves nearly reached her elbows. Now, she had a makeshift nightgown. She had no idea that Nagihiko wore such large recreational clothing – he didn't seem this big of a size…

She brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She finally pulled the door open, only to find a tall mass of six-pack perfection leaning against the door.

"You take a long time," he said huskily.

Amu diverted her eyes abruptly, trying her hardest to hide her blush. Since when did she blush so furiously when he was shirtless? She'd seen his upper half thousands of times in the past couple weeks, but now…

Now, it just seemed like an _entirely_ different experience.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to appear like she was washing her face... again.

She dried her face with a towel, praying to God that he couldn't see the conspicuous, heated blush that was surely covering her cheeks. Suddenly, she felt a long arm wrap around her waist, and yank her forward to a firm, smooth surface. She looked straight ahead, and all she could see was… chest.

Perfect… abs.

_Oh… __**god**__. _

"Your blush," he finally answered with a smirk.

Amu looked up at him, entirely entranced by his utterly stupendous ability to look ridiculously gorgeous whenever he wanted to. His dark, mysterious blue eyes penetrated directly into hers, and she found her hands wandering up his defined, gorgeous chest. His silky skin tingled beneath her light touch.

She smirked.

She whipped out the towel and tossed it behind his neck, grabbing both ends. She tugged on the towel, pulling him closer to her until she could feel the breath from his mouth on her lips. She pressed her body up against him, and gave him a swift kiss on the lips. She whispered seductively in his ear –

"Your turn."

– and walked out the door.

She smiled to herself. She felt successful as she swatted his butt with the towel and proceeded to _not_ look back. Though, she was dying to see the expression on his face at that very moment in time. She wished she had eyes in the back of her head – but when she left his expression to the imagination, she was fully satisfied. She let out a grin, and tucked herself into bed.

Ikuto splashed water on his heated face. He smirked at himself in the mirror.

That was _hot._

* * *

Nagihiko walked down the slender hallway to his room.

He stopped as he passed their room, and put an ear to the door – they appeared to be asleep.

_Good thing_, he thought. _It's already five in the morning. _

He sighed heavily, and sat down on the couch. He couldn't help but feel a slight bit of jealousy. Even though he'd sworn to leave Amu to Ikuto, he still felt that he was entitled to run away on an adventurous escapade with her.

He nearly felt betrayed.

Nagi rid his head of such thoughts, and laid down on the couch. He simply sat there for a while, not feeling tired in the slightest. He had to sort his jumbled thoughts.

If Amu and Ikuto were running from a very serious corporation, they were in serious risk of being found. And when they were found at _his_ apartment, what would happen to him? He was most likely tangled up in the mess without even doing anything. His hospitality toward the love of his life and her boyfriend could cost him his life.

He sighed. He might as well just forget about it and face what comes. Once again, he forced his feelings for Amu to the back of his mind, and to the bottom of his heart.

But he knew he was going to have a hard time keeping it from her friends – once again, he was stuck with the task of keeping their secret.

Suddenly, it came to him; like a strike of lightning, an idea flashed through his brain.

He pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number. He waited, and just when he was about to give up and end the call, a soft, irritated voice pierced the ringing.

"_What_ do you **want**."

"Hello, Rima."

"Do you know what time it is, dimwit?" She huffed into the phone. "I haven't even woken up for work!"

"You were about to," Nagi said sweetly.

"That doesn't –" she huffed again. "What the hell do you want?"

"Can you come over on your lunch break?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About _what_?"

"Something important. I need to show you something."

There was a pause of silence.

"Like a surprise?"

Nagihiko smiled. "Yes."

Another pause.

"I'll see you at noon."

"Thank you, Rima."

And the line was dead. Nagihiko smiled.

He _really_ couldn't go to sleep now.

* * *

_The room was dark and cold._

_Drops of sweat poured down the man's face. _

_He looked at his son with a look of pathetic sorrow. His eyes read complete horror and numbness, and a stream of blood poured down his face; next to his ear. His hands were bound behind him. His prison cell smelled of rotting corpses; mold and leakage dripped from the ceiling. _

_Ikuto stared at him. _

_Was this the man that all the fuss was about?_

_"Son," he coughed. His raspy voice was unnerving. "I did not kill your mother."_

_Ikuto felt anger rush through his veins._

_"I didn't kill her – she'd been ill from the start. I just wanted to be free, son! Do you understand that?"_

_"You never loved her."_

_"That's not true, son!" The man coughed again. "Th-that's not…"_

_He squirmed in his bounds. He coughed uncontrollably. _

_Ikuto didn't believe him. _

_"I loved your mother. I just wanted to be free; to start a new life!"_

_Ikuto clenched his fists._

_"I was just like you, son." _

_Ikuto flew forward, and furiously punched the man in the face. The chair toppled over, including the man bound to it. Ikuto grabbed his collar and yanked him up with one arm. He growled. _

_"You are __**nothing**__ like me!"_

_And as he walked away, he could hear the screams of agony as the torture commenced. _

* * *

"**DAD**!"

Ikuto shot up, eyes wide open and bloodshot. He felt like he'd held his eyes open under water – his head split with agony.

Amu's head shot up immediately after the sudden outcry.

"What the –" she looked over at Ikuto, panicked. "Oh god, are you okay?"

Ikuto held his head in his hands, and rocked back and forth. The covers were kicked completely off the bed. He wouldn't answer. Amu leaned over to his side of the bed, and placed a hand on his leg. Worry clouded her mind.

"Ikuto?" She reached up to his face, placing her hand on his cheek. "Ikuto, look at me."

Amu turned his face toward her, and he stopped his rocking back and forth. He looked at her.

Amu could not believe it.

"I-Ikuto, it's okay," she whispered tenderly, running a hand through his hair and stoking his cheek. "It's okay now."

Ikuto wrapped his arms around Amu faster than she could comprehend. She continued to stroke his hair, and kissed the side of his face, still shaken. She felt his hair against her shoulder, and felt his face buried deep in her neck. She could feel his trembling lips, quivering against her shoulder. His coarse hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt. Amu kissed his face again.

"It's okay," she whispered quietly.

She didn't know whether she was trying to comfort Ikuto or herself.

For the first time in her life, she saw… _fear _in his eyes.

Absolutely nothing but fear.

Ikuto released himself from her, slowly. He laid down in the bed, dragging Amu with him. He wrapped his arms around her lower back, and Amu found her face directly in front of his. His eyes were closed – his heavy, shallow breaths told her that he was already asleep. She stroked his cheek with her fingers, brushing his soft, navy hair from his face. He looked so innocent and helpless when he slept – she felt like she was comforting a little boy, lost in a nightmare.

A nightmare about his dead father.

She placed her hands on his chest, feeling so small and insignificant in his tall embrace. Finally, she laid her head against his smooth, firm chest, wrapping her arms around his back and listening to the lullaby of his steady heartbeat.

She closed her eyes.

"It's okay..." she whispered one last time.

Then, she was asleep.

* * *

_(A/N) - wow. can somebody say "intense?"_

_goodness glaciers. this chapter was HARD. and it's probably gonna get even harder from this point on... although i'm not really sure, cuz like i said, i haven't planned this story yet :3 but i do have a plotline. no worries. it's gonna be sicknasty. _

_so? SOO? are you impressed with my ultra-fast updating? no lie, i wrote this chapter in ONE day. one single, solitary day. it may be 4:00 in the morning, but I DID IT. i realied heavily on coffee and sugar cookies :3_

_i also relied heavily on a couple musical inspirations. the song "Romance Is... (Acoustic)" by LIGHTS was a huge inspiration to that last scene. also, the song "Glitter In the Air" by P!nk was like a lifesaver for the intensity relief. _

_SO! i have a question for all you readers. should i change the title of this story? if so, throw your suggestions at me. see, originally, this story was kinda supposed to be a one-shot... a really depressing song-fic. the prologue thingy? yeah. that was supposed to be it. but then i just got this insane idea in my head and went with it :D so give me some title suggestions already!_

_now, i'm gonna go eat somethin. i'm starving. hmm... sugar cookies... omnomnomnom~_


	22. Who We Are

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 21

* * *

"So, remind me why I'm here again?" Rima sighed.

She bit daintily into her watercress sandwich, staring expectantly at Nagihiko, who sat next to her on the couch. Nagihiko simply smiled.

He'd invited Rima over to his apartment for lunch on both of their breaks, and she'd arrived, looking nonchalant and still angry about his calling her at 5 o'clock in the morning. But Nagihiko could see through her prim and proper exterior – she was desperately looking forward to that "surprise" he'd told her about.

"You're here because I asked you to come," Nagi said sweetly.

Rima glared at him.

"No I'm not."

"Then why are you here, Rima?"

Nagi so enjoyed playing these games with her. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it and looked away. He controlled himself from letting out a chuckle – Mashiro Rima was a petite, doll-like woman with a fairly dangerous temper and a secret love of surprises.

"Oh!" Nagi exclaimed. "Come to think of it, I did tell you I had a surprise, didn't I?"

He could almost see her ears perk up like a little kitty at the sound of a bell.

"Oh, yes. You did, didn't you," she said calmly.

Nagihiko smiled ear to ear. He stood up and took her hand.

"Follow me."

As he guided his new friend down the slender hall, Nagi was oblivious to the extreme blush that flooded Rima's cheeks when she looked at their intertwined hands. Nagihiko stopped at a door and held up a finger to his lips, before quietly twisting the doorknob and silently opening the door.

There, sleeping on the bed, intertwined in a soft hug, were Amu Hinamori and Ikuto Tsukiyomi.

Rima's jaw dropped.

Before she could say a word, Nagihiko placed a hand over her mouth, and quickly closed the door to the bedroom. Rima removed his hand harshly from her mouth.

"What are –"

"They came last night."

"Why are –"

"They were being chased. It's only for a while."

"How did they –"

"Took a taxi."

Nagihiko grinned as Rima threw up her arms in frustration. She stomped into the living room and paced the floor a few times, before plopping down on the sofa. She chewed on her finger, with a sour expression on her face.

"I should just walk in there and slap some sense into that girl," Rima snapped.

Now, any ordinary bystander would be extremely surprised by the slanderous words escaping from the adorable blonde doll's mouth. But Nagihiko? He was used to it. Several times, Rima had simply stormed over to Nagihiko's apartment simply to rage and vent about the problems she was having at work, the issue with Amu and Ikuto, and even the issue she had with some random ex-boyfriend named Kairi who, she was convinced, was stalking her. Through it all, Nagihiko managed to obtain a better understanding of Rima, and the two of them became the strangest pair of friends.

Nagihiko had also learned the best way to calm her down.

"I don't understand why she doesn't tell me these things!" Rima flailed her arms in the air. "If she was to go anywhere, it should've been to me."

"Of course," Nagihiko agreed.

He sat down at his piano bench.

"I mean, my apartment isn't exactly the most spacious in the world, but… still!"

"I understand completely."

He quietly began to play Nocturne by Chopin.

"She's just so… so… scatterbrained!" Rima continued, in a slightly softer tone. "She just doesn't know when to stop, she doesn't know what she's doing, and she hardly knows why she's doing it…"

"True, true," Nagihiko said quietly.

Rima remained silent for a moment, picking up her tea and sipping from it daintily. The soft, gentle music trickled upon her like a waterfall, wafting through her ears and suddenly soothing her mind.

"But then again, maybe that's what's so romantic about it… I mean, Tsukiyomi _did_ come back for her after five years, even though he's basically put her in danger, and now she's reduced to staying at your apartment."

Nagihiko twitched. "Well, I don't know about that…"

Rima suddenly shrugged.

"Whatever. Amu can waste her life on such trivial behavior if she wants – it _is_ her life. Who are we to judge her on what she does?"

Nagihiko finally smiled.

"Now you're getting it."

And just in time, he finished the piece and stood from his piano, ready and willing to join his reformed friend for a nice afternoon cup of tea before heading back to work.

"So," Rima said as soon as he sat down. "Where's the surprise?"

* * *

"Hello, Souma."

"Tadase!" Kuukai threw an arm around the blonde and ruffled his perfect hair. "Hey, bro!"

Tadase laughed and gestured into his living room. "Come on in."

Kuukai gave him a toothy grin and slipped off his tennis shoes.

"Thanks, man. It's been like a million _years_ since I've been to your pad!" Kuukai said, jumping onto the plushy couch in the living room.

"A couple months, at least," Tadase returned, moving to the kitchen and wiping down his countertops. "How are you?"

"Doing great! This new training program I'm on is really busting me up; feels _amazing_."

Tadase laughed, and put the dish towel back in its place. He straightened a few more things in his spotless kitchen, and fixed the pillows on the couch, before looking at Kuukai with a slightly confused expression.

"Isn't Yaya with you?"

Kuukai stretched his neck casually. "Oh. Yeah, she's comin'."

"K-Kuukai!" Came an irritated moan from the hall.

Tadase turned to his open door, and saw a mass of boxes with two wobbling legs sticking out the bottom. Suddenly, it dawned on him.

"Yaya!" he exclaimed, rushing to the hall to help her.

He took several boxes off the top of her load, and finally saw her face beneath.

"Oh, Tadase," she breathed, "thanks a bunch."

"Your welcome, Yaya," he smiled at her.

They walked into his apartment room together, and as soon as Yaya entered and saw the lazy orange-head on the couch, she rolled her eyes.

"Thanks a lot, Kuukai!" She huffed irritably.

"Anytime, babe! What are friends for?"

Yaya dropped the boxes on the ground, and brushed a strand of chestnut-orange hair from her face.

"We brought the decorations you asked for, Tadase," she sighed.

"Thank you, Yaya, I appreciate it."

Yaya waved a hand dismissively. Tadase took it as a "you're welcome." Yaya stomped over to the couch with her hands on her hips and her brow furrowed together.

"You lazy loaf! I had to walk up 3 flights of stairs with those stupid boxes, and then –"

"Yaya." Kuukai said gravely. He stood and put his hands on her slender shoulders. "You don't seem to understand. This is your training! This is the hardcore stuff they don't teach you at ballerina school."

"But –"

"Come on, now, there's still boxes in that car. Who wants to get big strong muscles?"

Yaya cast her shining brown eyes to the ground and pouted.

"I do…" she muttered.

"That a girl!" Kuukai slapped a hand on her back and shoved her out the door.

"Ow!" She squeaked, and tumbled into the hallway, letting out a huff and going back to the car.

Tadase looked at Kuukai with a worried expression.

"Souma, are you sure that –?"

"Oh yeah, she's fine. She seems to really want those muscles, though… I'm surprised she's even going back to that car."

Tadase simply smiled at his obliviousness. Those two were perfect for each other.

"So, how've you been, Hotori? Makin' things happen?" Kuukai slapped Tadase on the back gruffly.

"I guess," Tadase said tightly, rolling his shoulder back in pain. "It's not too bad. Work's been a killer lately."

"I bet. If I had one of those office jobs, I'd be itching of cabin fever on the first day."

The two unlikely friends caught up on everything, unpacking the boxes of decorations for the reunion. After a few moments of silence in their conversation, Tadase looked at Kuukai and asked,

"So, how's Amu been doing?"

Kuukai froze momentarily. For a split second, he took the time to wonder whether or not he should tell Tadase of the predicament, but it was too late by the time he blurted,

"Oh, she's alright. Last time I checked, she went to her parent's house for a few days."

Tadase looked surprised.

"Her parents?"

"Yeah; apparently they're having some relationship problems or something. She wouldn't tell anybody, it was real personal."

Kuukai felt extremely proud of himself when Tadase let out an "oh," and went back to unpacking the boxes.

_Not bad, Kai – just make sure the story stays that way._

"And she'll be back for the reunion?" Tadase asked.

"Uh," Kuukai cursed himself; he hadn't thought about the reunion. "I don't know, she'll probably be back in time. I mean, why wouldn't she? She's the freakin' joker, for cryin' out loud!" He laughed, a little too loudly.

"I suppose…"

The two were awkwardly silent again.

"Why do you ask?" Kuukai blurted again.

Tadase shrugged his shoulders in a gentlemanly manner.

"Oh, just wondering. I haven't really talked to her much recently. The last time we spoke was at that luncheon we all went to – even then, she just seemed a little… distant. It was like she wasn't Amu at all." Tadase's sparkling ruby eyes were slightly saddened, but he brightened up immediately, smiling at Kuukai. "I suppose it all had to do with her parents, yes?"

"Heh, sure…"

Kuukai was beginning to feel increasingly bad inside. He hated lying – to him, lying was like snitching, and in his family, the policy was always "snitches get stitches." He just hoped that none of his brothers found out that he told a lie; a massive one.

And on top of that, Tadase's sad face was not easy to look at. It made Kuukai want to turn away and get a tissue; with his big, puppy-like eyes and that little guilty-cookie-snatching-boy look plastered all over his face.

Nevertheless, Kuukai knew that it was necessary that he kept Ikuto and Amu's position and situation a secret – for their good, as well as Tadase's.

"I've been wondering if it's because he's disappeared."

"What?" Kuukai looked at him incredulously.

Tadase put down the decoration in his hand, and distantly at the ground.

"It's all over the news – Tsukiyomi's gone. No one can find him, and there are search parties all over town. …It must be hard for her."

Kuukai stared at Tadase thoughtfully. To shove aside his animosity toward Tsukiyomi and worry about Amu's feelings toward him…

Tadase wasn't jealous. He'd just given up.

Just like Kuukai had done.

"I know she loved him once…" Tadase said quietly. "But I've never had the courage to ask her if she still does. I've never asked her… if I should just stop trying."

Kuukai had no idea what to say to that. He couldn't tell him that he felt the same exact way – he couldn't tell him to keep pursuing her, and he couldn't tell him to just give up. He couldn't find the words to say.

"You'll see."

Kuukai didn't realize that he was the one that had spoken. Were those _his_ wise words?

"You'll just know one day. Just watch her face. Don't miss a blink."

Tadase looked at Kuukai with surprise. Kuukai just smiled sincerely at his blonde-haired friend. Finally, a smile broke upon Tadase's face, and the two unlikely friends shared a quiet moment of their unique alliance.

"Okay, that's the last bit of boxes!" Yaya burst into the room and dropped the boxes abruptly. "Sorry I took so long, but I saw this lady walking this adorable little puppy – it was like a tiny little brown one that a bunch of ladies fit in their purses – so I had to drop all the boxes and – …what?"

The two boys were unconsciously staring, with open jaws, at Yaya's boisterous entrance.

"Did I interrupt something?" she looked guilty. "Oops."

"No, it's alright, Yaya," Tadase laughed. "We were just talking about Amu."

"Yeah," Kuukai chuckled nervously, giving Yaya the death stare. "About _Amu_."

In the car on the ride there, Kuukai had given Yaya a small coaching about what to say when Amu's name was mentioned – absolutely _nothing_. Kuukai knew that if Yaya opened her mouth whatsoever in front of Tadase, the entire secret would be spilled and everything would be a disaster.

And when Kuukai looked at the excited expression on Yaya's face, he feared the worst.

"Oh, about Amu? Yeah, I know, everybody's talking about how she went and –"

"Visited the mountains for a week last summer," Kuukai spurted from the tip of his tongue. "Alone. I mean, seriously? Nobody goes to the mountains anymore."

Yaya gasped in surprise. "Amu went to the mountains? Oh my god, no way!"

"I like the mountains," Tadase said calmly. "They hold a sort of tranquility."

"I've never even been there! It sounds so exciting!"

Kuukai sighed heavily as Tadase and Yaya delved into a deep conversation about the mountains as they unpacked more boxes of decorations. The three friends laughed and together, they furthered the plans and decoration setup for the Seiyo High Reunion. Kuukai picked Yaya up over his shoulder and dumped her in a leftover box. Tadase surprised both of them when he closed the flaps of the box and began rolling Yaya all over his apartment; Kuukai quickly joined in the fun.

All the while, Kuukai thought of the new things he'd discovered and learned about his own feelings, as well as Tadase's.

He smiled to himself.

_I guess 3__rd__ place won't kill me. _

* * *

"Good morning, Miss Hayashi," Nagihiko smiled, walking into Kyoko Magazine.

"'Morning," Miki grumbled.

"Here's your coffee, Miss Hayashi!" Su piped cheerily.

"Thanks."

"Will there be anything else?" Su looked at Miki expectantly.

"…Nope."

"Oh, and by the way, Miss Hayashi," Nagihiko spoke while he walked. "Amu won't be coming in today. She's got that flu bug again. Absolutely terrible – vomit _everywhere_. It was horrifying."

"…'Kay."

"Su, I need twenty copies of this in my office in a few minutes, please, alright?" Nagi smiled his dazzling smile at the assistant.

Su took the paper from his hands and beamed at him. "Sure!"

"Thank you!" He yelled back as he walked down the hall, to his office.

As soon as Nagihiko rounded the corner, Miki snapped out of her funk and slammed a hand on her desk irritably.

"Dammit!" Miki shouted between her teeth. "Why'd she have to get sick _again_?"

Su shrugged her shoulders, still watching with starry eyes as Nagihiko walked calmly down the hall.

"I da know…" she sighed.

"I mean, seriously? She tells me she's dating a freakin' celebrity, lets me sit and boil over it for an _entire _weekend, and then doesn't come to work on Monday! Who the hell does she think she is?" Miki growled.

"But it's too bad, really," Su trailed off obliviously. "One time my sister's fiancée's brother got totally sick like, three times in the same week, and he was barfing everywhere, I mean, it was disgusting. I couldn't bake pastries for a week because I kept thinking about the nasty –"

"Good morning, ladies!" Ran Watanabe burst into the duo's one-sided conversation.

"Oh, good morning, Miss Watanabe!" Su greeted cheerily, completely oblivious.

"Su, darlin', I've been looking for you everywhere! I need 70 copies of this flyer for next week's catwalk competition in Seiyo Mills Mall," Ran handed her the paper and spoke rapidly. "It wasn't my idea, but Kairi Sanjou decided we should hold it again just in case another up-and-coming model comes and struts her stuff all over everyone else, am I right? Hah-hah! …And what is _her_ problem?"

Ran pointed a manicured fingernail at Miki, who sat at her desk with her hand shoved against her cheek and a sour expression on her face. Su smiled absent-mindedly.

"Oh, she's mad at Amu – uh, err, M-Miss Hinamori for not showing up to work today."

"Oh, yeah, Fujisaki told me she had some stomach bug or something!" Ran said excitedly. "Heck, I'd get myself a stomach bug if it meant Fujisaki could tend to me."

"She's probably lying about it all," Miki muttered to Su. "She just said that to make me mad or something…"

"Oh, I don't think Amu would do that," Su whispered back.

"Amu would do what? Lie? Oh, heck no, that girl's as saintly as a nun."

Miki rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I think Amu's really nice," Su said airily. "And she's so beautiful… like a model..."

"I think she needs a man," Ran folded her arms.

"I think she's just lying to me because she doesn't want me to take that sexy blonde princely guy…" Miki mumbled.

"Wait, I thought it was Nagi she liked?" Su wondered aloud. "He does have lovely purple hair…"

"No, you're both _way _off," Ran chatted. "It's definitely that drop-dead-gorgeous orange-haired athlete that visited her a couple weeks ago."

The three young women pondered silently for a while, thoroughly confused about Amu's love life. Ran Watanabe twirled a lock of her voluptuous valentine-colored hair. Miki Hayashi chewed on her beloved sketching pencil. Su Yoshida nibbled absentmindedly on a random piece of pastry that appeared to have come out of nowhere.

"Well!" Ran bubbled, breaking the silence, "I think we all know Amu's a little scatterbrained, but hey! Who doesn't love that adorable cool n' spicy attitude?"

Miki shot a glare at the fiery red-headed supervisor.

"All due respect, Boss; I think we all know who the scatterbrained one is in this office."

"Miki!" Ran placed her hands on the poor oblivious Su's ears. "Not in front of the brain-scattered herself!"

"I wasn't talking about Su!" Miki stood up, hands on hips.

"Well, you don't have to get huffy about – wait, excuse me?"

Su just smiled in confusion and continued to munch on her pastry as the boss and employee argued over something she didn't quite catch. She gathered up her papers and things, and managed to slip out of the fray before things began flying.

"I think I'll go make some tea," Su chirped delightedly.

* * *

Amu's eyes fluttered open.

She was surprised to feel very, very cold.

She sat up in the bed slowly, and rubbed her head. It felt strange, after so many years, to not wake up with a headache.

Amu looked around, but was at a loss to see Ikuto. She almost felt a surge of panic; but she looked at the cracked bathroom door, heard the shower running, and felt relief again.

She dangled her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. She looked at a nearby clock; she nearly had a heart attack.

_2:30? _

_**Damn,**__ we slept late. _

Amu stood up and slipped on some leggings and a sweatshirt. She blushed just at the thought of entering the bathroom while Ikuto was in the shower – so, she simply sat back down on the edge of the bed. Thoughts floated through her mind, though she felt like she wasn't thinking at all. They drifted through her brain like passing clouds – never stopping to be thought of.

Amu felt as empty and blissful as she'd felt in a long time.

It didn't matter that she was being followed; that her life was in danger; or that there was a good chance she'd get captured or killed. She just didn't care anymore.

As long as she was with Ikuto, she felt as blissful as could be...

"My shower was lonely," whispered a husky voice in her ear.

…Except when he was being an _ass_.

Amu nearly had another heart attack when long, lean arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against a familiarly firm, sexy, half-naked body. Ikuto smirked down at her, kissing her cheek from behind, causing her to blush madly.

"Good," Amu laughed, swatting his arm.

Ikuto turned her around by the waist, and hugged her in his arms as he leaned down and kissed her fervently. Amu kissed him back shyly, still getting used to being able to hold him so freely. After being kissed passionately, Amu was lifted into the air in a warm, affectionate embrace – she let out a laugh and pounded on his shoulder to put her down.

He kissed her swiftly once more, and brought her into a sincere, passionate hug.

Amu was beginning to realize something – Ikuto liked hugs. She held him tightly, smiling ear-to-ear. He was just one big cat-like teddy-bear. He rubbed his hands along her back, and held her close to him, burying his face in her hair.

Amu was beginning to realize that she liked hugs too.

"Ikuto," she giggled.

"Mm."

"I'm hungry."

"Mm."

"Ikuto…"

"Mm?"

"Lemme go, stupid!" she squealed, flailing her arms wildly as Ikuto flipped her upside down in his arms.

Amu squawked like an ostrich as Ikuto slung her over his shoulder and threatened to drop her – she slapped his bottom so hard she was _sure_ she left bruises (or so she hoped). Ikuto simply smirked, and flipped her right-side up, only to launch her onto the bed with him in tow. Amu laughed the hardest she'd ever laughed in years. Ikuto lay on top of her, brushing the hair out of her face and kissing her softly on the nose. He smiled at her; her beautiful fuschia hair spread out behind her like a veil, and her sweet, honey golden eyes sparkled with happiness. Her laughter made him feel warm inside.

Amu's laughter died down, and she gazed into Ikuto's softened, midnight sapphire eyes with a soft smile on her face.

"You don't scare me," she whispered.

"No?"

"Nope." She shook her head, giggling.

She kissed his lips softly, and stroked his soft navy hair back.

"You'll _never_ let me fall."

Ikuto smiled, and could not contain himself from kissing the girl once more. In the midst of everything that was happening; everything that was going on around them, the two lovers embraced each other and kissed each other with smiles on their faces like everything was right in the world. The couple laid together on the bed for a few more moments, before Amu heard a strange, yet familiar growling sound. She placed a hand on Ikuto's bare chest, and smiled up at him.

"Sounds like somebody else is hungry too."

Ikuto grinned. He stood up from the bed reluctantly, and went to the bathroom to slip on a white v-neck t-shirt. She smiled – the light blue jeans and white t-shirt were a nice change to his wardrobe.

As Amu lay on the bed by herself, she finally felt a few thoughts floating through her head, and she felt impulse to speak them aloud.

"Hey, Ikuto…"

"Yeah?" He answered from the bathroom.

Amu sat up on the bed.

"I don't understand… why can't we just call the police?"

Ikuto was quiet for a moment. He walked out of the bathroom, and leaned against the doorframe with a slightly more serious expression.

"I had a feeling you would ask that."

Amu could sense the immediate tenseness that returned to him as the serious topic was brought up yet again. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's… complicated," he said. "The company has a sort of immunity from the law. The police have received many anonymous tips about Easter's activities that have been proven to be wrong, so they've just ignored them and apologized to Hoshina. Easter's hitmen are trained to say nothing of their employment if they are arrested. Basically, it's game over for them – they get no trial, no nothing – only a lifetime in prison… all to keep the company's activities a secret."

Amu sunk into the bed, feeling significantly more depressed than she had been when she'd awoken that morning.

"Why would anyone want to work in such a horrible place?" She whispered.

"No one does." Ikuto walked over to Amu, clearly distraught. "Hoshina holds a dark secret over everyone's head. If there was a prize for blackmail, he's already won that. He's got power like you wouldn't believe."

Amu looked up at Ikuto, and saw the traces of sadness and anger in his eyes, and suddenly remembered the night before – everything about it. She remembered Ikuto waking up from a nightmare, broken out in a cold sweat, and clinging to her like a scared little boy.

She remembered the name he'd screamed as he shot up from his sleep.

…_Dad_.

"Is he going to come after us?" Amu asked quietly.

To her surprise, Ikuto shook his head. "No; he's not stupid. He knows that if his men make one wrong move, the police will investigate Easter thoroughly, and he'll be locked up for life. He wouldn't risk following us out in public."

"So what about my job?" she asked, though she hardly cared if she had to quit or not.

"You'll be safe there. He's not after _you_."

Amu stood up, and walked to Ikuto with a looked of fear in her eyes.

"How do you know? Ikuto, what if… something happens –"

"Amu."

She looked up at him. He looked straight into her eyes, seriousness in his gaze. He placed his hands on her slender shoulders, and pulled her closer to him.

"I _will not_ let anything happen to you." He pulled her into his arms, and kissed the top of her head softly. "I promise."

Amu did not doubt him for a moment – she believed him. She rested her head against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his broad back.

"I know," she said quietly.

This time, Ikuto heard a familiar, strange gurgling sound coming from Amu. He looked at her face, and grinned at her blush.

"I told you I was hungry."

Ikuto kissed her lips affectionately, and Amu glowed with happiness as he took her hand and led her to the bedroom door. As the two walked to the kitchen of Nagihiko's apartment for something to quench their hunger, Amu somehow felt safer and more secure than she'd ever felt in her life.

In the midst of everything that had happened in the past two weeks, she had felt nothing but hunted; stalked.

As she looked into Ikuto's eyes and held his soft, warm hand, she felt…

Safe.

* * *

_(A/N) - and the useless chapter of sheer fluff is complete. :3_

_i know you're probably like, "holy friggin crap, this woman has updated 3 times in one week." (about a chapter a day, i'd say :) but i just feel ultra motivated for some reason, guys. the whole reason i signed up for this website was to improve my writing skills, in hopes of someday becoming a writer - a real one. i felt like when i was slacking off, i was creating really bad habits for myself - i mean, writers do have deadlines, and deadlines will be the death of me if i don't step it up. _

_so look who's steppin' it up. :D_

_i figured i should throw in one more chapter on my writing spree before i go on vaca for a week D: so no more crazy updating for a little bit. but i'll be back before you know it! _

_reviews, please? i make a policy of always replying to reviews, so if you have something you'd like me to hear or something you want me to insert in this story or just something you wanna get off your chest about how the story makes you feel, please tell me, and i'll be happy to answer you back! _

_toodle-oo! :D_


	23. Not Alone

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 22

* * *

She entered the building with confidence – as she walked up the stairs, her brimming confidence dwindled with every step.

And after she knocked on Amu's front door for the third time, Hoshina Utau's confidence was entirely deflated.

Utau clenched her fists tightly. _Why the hell wasn't she answering her door? _She'd come to Amu's flat building, made a fool of herself trying to avoid the throngs of fans along her decrepit street sidewalk, in hopes of apologizing for nearly losing her temper against her best friend. She just wanted to see Ikuto and Amu– she just wanted to see her brother and her best friend. They didn't realize just how much Utau was risking for them here – she deliberately kept it a secret that she knew where Ikuto was hiding, in order to protect him from Easter's clutches. She'd even reluctantly let it go when she realized that Ikuto loved Amu more than herself…

…And they had the _nerve_ to ignore her knocking?

"She's not here," came a deep voice from below.

Utau was startled as she looked down the stairs. There, leaning on the bottom of the stair railing and smirking, was Souma Kuukai.

"How do you know that?" Utau snapped.

Kuukai let out an ungentlemanly snort of laughter, and walked up a few stairs, staring at the blonde singer with mischievous emerald eyes.

"I live here, remember? Next-floor-neighbor?" He smirked up at her. "Besides, I don't think she'd be too inclined to see the girl who tried to beat her up a while ago."

"I didn't try to –" Utau stopped, not ready to let this hooligan see her flustered side. "I just came to see her."

Kuukai stared intently at the blonde idol's fiery amethyst eyes, and smirked a little more. He knew what she was here for.

"Oh. So… you came to apologize."

"I didn't say that!" Utau snapped, letting out a frustrated huff, "Forget it."

She stormed down the staircase, brusquely bumping Kuukai in the shoulder and whipping locks of shiny blonde hair in his face. Kuukai's eyes were wide as he heard the building's entrance door _slam_ behind him. He hardly had time to contemplate the girl's spastic, furious behavior before the door opened behind him again.

"Where _is_ she then?"

Kuukai simply smirked, and turned around slowly to face the annoyed, flustered blonde idol in the doorway.

Kuukai shrugged. "Dunno." And walked back to his room.

Utau was left by the entry door with a gaping jaw – did that man just _walk away_ from her?

"She's got a phone," Kuukai said dully before walking into his room. "Try it."

Utau opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off when the orange-haired athlete smirked at her impishly one last time, before he shut his door abruptly. She scowled in his wake, and abruptly whirled around and left the building.

Behind the door, Kuukai looked at Tucker and smiled.

"How'd I do, buddy?"

Tucker looked at Kuukai with a straight face, head tilted to the side. Kuukai slumped.

"What? I tried!" He plopped down on the couch. "I can't seem _too_ indifferent; she's a celeb, for god's sake! But meeting her in person like that… Jeez, that girl's a firebrand for sure."

His mind drifted back to her fire-blazing amaranthine eyes, her firm, taut jaw and her thin, statuesque figure. Just the thought brought a queer smile to his face. Tucker still looked at Kuukai with reprimanding eyes, if it ever were possible for a canine to show such emotion.

"What?" Kuukai squawked. "At least I didn't break down and ask for her autograph! She'd probably bite my head off anyway."

He turned his attention to his kitchen wall, where a poster of the tall, thin, beautiful singer hung by his window, catching rays of gentle sunlight streaming through the heavy layer of clouds in the morning sky. Kuukai stared at her image for a moment, then thought of her real image.

He looked at Tucker and smirked.

"Eh – not my type."

* * *

The days went by slowly at Nagihiko's house – not that Amu minded.

Amu didn't want to go anywhere – she wanted to stay with Ikuto every minute of the day, for the rest of her life. The couple spent the hours talking with each other, learning things about each other, getting to know each other. After five years, so many things had changed for the both of them. Amu tried to steer clear of anything having to do with Easter; Ikuto steered clear of anything having to do with his past. The two lovers spent every waking moment in each other's arms, relishing the feeling that was still so fresh and new to them.

Everything was perfect again.

But unfortunately, the morning arrived when Amu had to wake up and proceed with going to work.

She did not like the idea one bit – she was still slightly fearful of what would happen when she was alone in the office – but she remembered Ikuto's promise, and did not doubt him for a minute. Thus, she woke up very early in the morning and prepared herself for a chaotic day at Kyoko Magazine.

Amu borrowed one of Nagihiko's white collared shirts that had shrunken dramatically in the wash. She rolled up the sleeves to her elbows, and tucked it into her black flared pants that she'd stuffed in her book bag. She threw on a silver chain necklace and silver heels, pulled her bubblegum-fuchsia hair up in a ponytail, fluffed her bangs a bit, and looked in the mirror.

_Not half-bad, Hinamori. _

Amu picked up her phone and her wallet, stuffing them in her back pocket. She finally looked over at the bed.

Ikuto slept like a baby – his arm was tucked beneath his cheek, and his legs were curled up against his chest like a little toddler. Amu smiled. She walked over to the bed, and stared down at him with a warm grin. She leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, and watched as he stirred ever-so-slightly in his deep slumber; now, his hand rested beneath his cheek, making him look like a tiny sleeping chipmunk.

He was just _so damn cute_.

Amu severely resisted the extreme urge to jump back into the bed and cuddle with him some more; she quietly tip-toed out of the bedroom, and managed to shut the door without making excess noise. She sighed, and walked into the kitchen, where she filled Nagihiko's tea-pot with water and made some steaming hot tea.

Amu figured that Nagi was going in to work a little later; her hopes were dashed when she realized she wouldn't be able to get a ride in his warm, comfy-cozy car. She sighed, and contemplated waiting for him to wake up, but remembered that she'd skipped a day of work already – she had a lot of catching up to do – thus, she'd have to take the bus.

With a mug of steaming tea in her hand, Amu shot one last glance at the door behind which Ikuto slept, let out a small smile, and exited from the apartment room.

Only minutes later, another figure emerged from the very same room, and quietly exited from the apartment.

_15 minutes later…_

Nagihiko emerged from his room sleepily, grabbed a cereal bar from the kitchen, and tripped and stumbled out the door.

He knew that he should've woken up earlier – he had quite a bit of work to do, including Amu's from the day before. The elevator was occupied, and Nagi cursed under his breath and walked to the stairs.

He _hated_ mornings.

And very few people knew exactly what he acted like on mornings when he was _late_.

He tripped on a flight of stairs and nearly tumbled to the bottom, but caught himself quickly. Nagihiko _never_ tripped – **ever** – but his poise was depleted in the mornings. He finally made it out to the sidewalk in one piece, where almost no people were sighted. It was still slightly dark outside, due to the late mornings of November, and the streets were covered with a light, almost unnoticeable layer of mist. Nagihiko jumped in his car, and drove down the street at a high speed.

Suddenly, he stopped the car abruptly. He saw a tall, lean man in a black hooded jacket walking down the sidewalk.

Nagihiko shook his head, and let out a small, weary smirk. He turned off his engine, and stepped out of his car, turning to the sidewalk.

"Going somewhere?" he called out.

The mysterious man in a black hoodie and jeans stopped dead in his tracks, and looked over at Nagihiko. His shoulders seemed to relax dramatically when he realized that it was Nagihiko, and he took off the hood covering his head.

Ikuto's striking blue eyes cut through the mistiness of the morning.

"Yeah." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Nagihiko snatched himself out of his bad mood, and smiled knowingly at the blue-haired violinist. He sighed, and thought briefly, before tossing all rational thoughts aside and going with his gut.

"Hop in," he said.

Ikuto looked at him suspiciously. Nagi simply stared at him expectantly.

"You don't want to be caught, do you?" He grinned knowingly. "Besides… I have a strange feeling that we might be going to the same place."

Ikuto stood there for a moment, contemplatively silent. Finally, he reluctantly walked toward the car, opened the passenger door and slipped into the sleek automobile. Nagihiko slipped into the driver's seat, and closed the door. He sat in the middle of the empty neighborhood street, pensively silent. Finally, Nagihiko turned and looked at Ikuto directly.

"Amu can't take care of herself, you know." He looked at Ikuto solemnly. "…She needs someone there for her. _Always_."

Ikuto stared at the dashboard with a blank look on his face – but Nagihiko wasn't looking at his face. He was looking at his fully-expressive midnight eyes.

Nagihiko read those eyes like a page, and smiled.

"But you already knew that… didn't you?"

Ikuto still remained silent. Nagihiko was surprised, however, when Ikuto turned his serious gaze to him, and stared with a fervent passion into Nagihiko's eyes.

"Yeah," Ikuto said quietly, yet firm. "Yeah, I did."

Nagihiko simply nodded, turned on the ignition, and continued his drive to work. He felt a satisfied feeling in his heart – Ikuto knew that he was doing.

"Don't let her out of your sight," Nagihiko smirked.

And finally, he felt satisfied that he was giving his precious Amu away to someone that he _knew_ was worthy.

* * *

"AMU!" Came a blast of feminine voice from Amu's doorway.

Amu looked up calmly from her desk; she wasn't at all startled by the sudden outburst and door-slam – she was used to it, coming from her boss.

"Hello, Ms. Watanabe."

"Hey there, baby doll! Oh, how I've missed you and your wonderful organization skills. So you're cured from your stomach nastiness, right? Because that'd be just NASTY if you decided to shove all your sickliness in everybody's face."

Amu felt so tempted to roll her eyes.

_**Nagihiko**__…_

_When would her friends stop making excuses about her being deathly ill?_

"Y-yeah, I feel a lot better." _Liar_…

"Great!" Ran squeaked, clearing a small space of the corner of Amu's desk to plop her bottom on. "Now, I need you to type up this interview with Kanae Ito – Nagihiko took care of it when you were gone – and also, alphetize those weekly cooking articles, 'kay?"

Amu took the stack of folders and papers that her boss shoved in her face, surprised that Nagihiko conducted the interview in her stead.

"Sure thing, Ms. Watanabe."

"And another thing –"

"AMU HINAMORI!" A sudden squawk came from Amu's doorway once more.

This time, Amu jumped slightly – she did not expect _two_ obnoxious burstings into her office so early in the morning. She stared blankly as Miki Hayashi stormed up to her desk and slammed her hand on the chestnut wood.

"Look, kiddo, I can't take this anymore! You can't just tell somebody you're dating a celebrity – oh, hey, Boss – and then just walk away! I nearly DIED yesterday!"

Both Ran and Amu stared blankly at the flustered blue-haired artist, when suddenly, Ran snapped up like a stiff board.

"Wait, Amu? Celebrity? _Dating?_"

"Exactly!"

"Okay, could everybody please just calm –"

"Uh, Amu?" Su knocked nervously on the wide-open door. "I brought your tea and a few sugar cookies, since I heard you were sick yesterday…"

Amu sighed. There was an extravanganza in her office. "Thanks, S –"

"AMU!" Miki squawked, placing her hands on Amu's shoulders and shaking the poor woman to death. "Stop avoiding the subject! TELL MEEE!"

"Tell her what?" Su wondered aloud.

Ran jumped up and down in a corner, clapping her hands and cheering. "Oh my god, Amu's got a boyfriend!"

"Really?" Su gasped, then smiled and slumped again. "Oh wait, I knew that."

"And it's a celebrity?"

"Yeah, it's that Tsumiyogo guy," Su chattered.

"Tsukiyomi…" Amu muttered.

"Tsukiyomi? TSUKIYOMI IKUTO?" Ran nearly went into cardiac arrest.

"I knew it all along!" Miki triumphed, finally letting go of poor Amu's shoulders. "You ARE dating him!"

"We're not dating, exactly –"

Ran shoved her hands on her hips. "Damn, girl, since when did you have connections like that?"

"Oh, Amu, I'm so happy for you!" Su bubbled.

"Oh my god," Miki suddenly froze. "I talked on the phone with Tsukiyomi Ikuto. …OH MY _GOD_!"

"Could everyone please calm down?" Amu cried, feeling an oncoming headache.

It took quite some time to calm the girls down, and when Amu had straightened her clothes and fixed her wild hair, along with calming her nerves significantly, she pulled herself together and prepared a small, sustainble explanation to give her nosy coworkers. The three young, excited women stood before her in a line, leaning towards her on their tip-toes with expectant looks on their faces. Green eyes were lazy, calm, and yet confused and excited. Blue eyes were bouncing back and forth like a tennis match, studying Amu's face carefully. Hot pink eyes were bouncing up and down as if influenced by some sort of drug.

Amu sighed.

Her co-workers were hopeless.

"Yes," she breathed. "Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

"Wait… didn't he disappear or something?"

Amu held her breath.

_Crap_. She'd forgotten about his "sudden disappearance" off the face of the planet. _Double freakin' __**crap**_.

Before she could even think of a good explanation, one was spilling out of her mouth.

"Yes," she said quietly, running a hand through her hair and pretending to be distraught. "He did. I haven't seen him in several days… I'm really worried about him."

Amu folded her hands in her lap, and quieted her tone dramatically. She kept her eyes away, so as to avoid the eyes of her intent listeners, hanging on her every word; also, she was a terrible liar. However, she managed to conjure up a perfectly believable story, and even threw in a depressed look on her face to boot.

To her surprise, they believed it.

"Wow…" Su looked about on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry, Amu. I'd be worried too."

"Don't worry!" Ran stood straight, and did a little cheer for Amu. "He'll turn up in a snap! He probably just took a little vacation to get away from the 'razzi."

"Yeah, Ran's probably right," Su smiled, changing her mood suddenly. "He'll come back soon; I'm sure of it!"

Miki's eyes were glazed over; she was staring off into space, and Amu could've sworn that she saw a glint of drool on the edge of her mouth.

"I…" she uttered in her trance. "…I t-talked on the phone w-with – OW!" Miki shot an angered glare at Ran, but quickly recovered and smiled at Amu reassuringly. "No worries, Ams – he's a crazy man if he leaves a gal like you."

_Hah! _Amu thought bitterly. _In that case, he's a definite psycho._

However, Amu plastered a pathetic smile on her face and looked at her three bright-smiling co-workers.

"Thanks, guys."

Miki was quick to change the subject.

"So, does this mean that the sexy blonde princely guy is available? He just so… _debonaire_…"

"Oh! What about Nagihiko?" Su piped up immediately. "Although you two do hang out at lunch all the time… perhaps I'll make him some tarts or something."

"Hah! You deadbeats," Ran scoffed. "I'm gunnin' for the muscles in this operation – the orange-haired soccer player is _mine_."

Amu smacked her forehead with her palm, yet still manage to let out a small, barely noticeable chuckle.

Those three would never change.

The assistant, the artist, the graphic designer and the supervisor talked and talked away, chatting about everything under the sun without stopping for a breath in between. Most of it consisted of Ran and Miki at each other's necks, Amu trying to calm them down, and Su muttering something to herself obliviously on the side. However, they always managed to make up again without even thinking, and in the end, it was an altogether pleasant conversation.

Before the four of them went back to work, Ran pulled everyone in for a tight-squeezing group hug, and the three girls left Amu's office with a word of encouragement about her "dilemma". Amu smiled and nodded, and sat back down at her desk.

She simply sat for several moments, thinking.

"Odd," she mumbled aloud.

Who knew that such entirely different girls could get along so well?

* * *

Utau slammed her phone on the table.

"Why won't she pick up?" She growled under her breath.

Utau was growing increasingly aggrivated just thinking of Amu's complete and utter lack of maturity – ignoring her knocking, not answering her phone…

Utau didn't care if it never rang and went straight to her answering machine – out of battery – the girl should still have some decency to charge it once in a while!

Utau sighed heavily, cooling down her system. She placed her phone into her pocket, and calmly walked down the hallway of Easter Corporation. She despised being here; every minute of walking through the dimly lit hallways made her sick to her stomach. She hated it.

She hated the man running it.

She hated _everything about it_.

"Utau!" A chipper voice called ahead of her. "Hello, darling ~!"

Well, not _quite_ everything. There were two aspects that she enjoyed; most of the time.

Utau walked toward the receptionist's desk in the lobby, located in the back of the building – Utau never thought that made any sense – and leaned on the top of the desk. A black-haired girl looked up at the blonde, and abruptly turned around in her chair.

"Hey, moron! Look who's here; it's that famous idol chick," the girl called to someone carrying a load of boxes. She turned back around in her chair and smirked at Utau, with fiery-red eyes full of mischeif. "How's it cookin', Utau?"

"Hey, Iru."

"You makin' things happen out there?"

"Sure. Just got off tour."

"Sweet," the black-haired girl smirked devilishly. "Did you have to crack some skulls of fans?"

Utau rolled her eyes, and slung her arms over the top of the ovular desk, resting her head on it.

"Sometimes I felt like it."

Iru sniggered quietly, but was quickly silence by a sharp glare emanating from angered amethyst eyes. Iru turned around in her chair once more, and yelled raucously,

"Eru! You dunce, get your ass over here!"

A blonde-haired girl shuffled over to the duo, holding a large box in her hands. She abruptly dropped the box on the ground, let out an "oops", and looked up at the two girls with shining blue eyes and a smile.

"Hi, guys! Utau, you should see the awesome new phones we're installing, they're sooo cool ~!"

Both Iru and Utau rolled their eyes at the ditzy entrance of the cheery blonde. Iru whispered behind her hand to Utau,

"She thinks they're _romantic_."

"Ugh…" Utau groaned.

"What?" Eru squawked. "The caller ID doesn't show on the screen, so it's like thousands of secret admirers are calling us all day long ~!"

"You moron," Iru spat. "The only calls we get are from angry overaged men who made a bad deal with the Boss man."

"Then there's those creepy men who call to speak with Miss Misaki," Eru shuddered. "In _private_."

"Eugh," Iru made vomiting motions.

Utau looked up, and straightened slowly.

"Speaking of Sataness herself…"

Both Iru and Eru snapped up like twigs, wide-eyed and panicked – Eru scrambled behind the reception desk, and the two receptionists picked up the phones, spoke to a dead dial tone and typed on the computers, pretending to be busy.

Sure enough, the dark-blonde haired witch rounded the corner of the hallway on the other side of the lobby, fact-paced clip-clopping echoing in her wake. Her flashing, narrowed topaz eyes were cast down, intently studying a file of papers in her hand. Suddenly, she stopped walking in front of the ovular receptionist's desk.

"Eru."

Eru gulped at the harsh sound of her name.

"Y-yes, ma'am?"

"Pick up the boxes before I fire you."

Eru scrambled out of the ovular desk area and waddled over to the large boxes on the ground that contained their new desk phones.

"Yes, m-ma'am."

Dia took a moment to look up from her file of papers, and her eyes narrowed when they came upon Utau.

"Why, if it isn't the prodigal daughter."

"Still bitchy as ever, aren't you, Dia?" Utau sighed casually.

"Of course – but not as much so as my slutty cousin with a star-complex."

"Glad to see you too."

"I hope you've come here to tell me that your brother is dead – because that's about the only reason I would ever be _glad_ to see your face."

Utau straightened her back, and glared at Dia with a heated hatred in her flaming amethyst eyes. Dia stared right back; her eyes were as emotionless and blank as ever, and that made Utau even more angry. Dia knew it.

"My brother is free." Utau clenched her fists. "He's free from this stupid company, and he'll never be caught."

"Oh, dear cousin of mine." Dia waved her hand behind her, and brusquely brushed past the blonde singer. "You're so naïve it hurts."

Utau fought her raging fists; she contained herself until the clip-clopping of the witch's heels were far out of her hearing range. Her jaw was tight and her face was filled with rage.

"God, I hate that woman," Iru muttered, slamming the phone in the cradle and leaning back in her chair.

"If you could call that creature a _woman_," Eru snapped.

Iru looked back at her light-blonde, angelic receptionist partner with a look of surprise.

"Nice one, Eru."

Eru nodded triumphantly.

"Don't listen to her, Utau," the light-blonde girl said softly. "She's always got her panties in a bunch."

"Yeah, and now she thinks she's all high-and-mighty because she went to the Boss man about some fool-proof plan to catch Ikuto and hold him here for good."

Utau snapped out of her rage, and stared at her two friends incredulously.

"What?"

"It's true," Eru confirmed. "I heard it through the airvent in the girl's bathroom – Dia said that 'after Friday, you will have Tsukiyomi in the palm of your hand.' I think she was talking to Hoshina himself."

Iru shrugged. "Your brother's good, Utau, but I don't know how long he's gonna last out there, with Easter's bunnies hot on his trail."

Utau wasn't listening. She was zeroing in on Friday in her brain's calendar.

Meanwhile, Iru stared at Eru incedulously.

"The girl's bathroom?"

"What?" Eru squawked. "It's two floors beneath Hoshina's office!"

"But the airvent is on the ceiling."

Eru was quiet for a moment, fidgeting with her hands.

"Th-there's a toilet to stand on –"

"Oh, god, Eru! You didn't; you idiot!"

"I-I didn't think it was so – wait a minute, where's Utau?"

Iru noted the confused expression on her partner's face, and turned around quickly, only to see Utau walking briskly back down the hallway, turning a sharp corner and vanishing from their sights. Iru abruptly swatted the ditzy blonde in the arm.

"Ow!" she squeaked.

"Now look what'cha did, you _nasty _– you scared her away with your gross eavesdropping habits!"

"I'm sorry…" Eru sniffled.

Utau walked quickly down the hall, leaving her friends in a mystified stupor. She pulled out her cell phone once more, dialing Amu's number.

She dialed it again, and again; and she'd keep trying and trying.

She _needed_ to talk to Amu.

* * *

Amu shuffled a cherry tomato through her garden salad absent-mindedly.

Nagihiko watched her intently, a small smile forming on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her finally.

"Huh? What?" Amu snapped out of her thoughts, and stared at Nagihiko with wide eyes.

Nagihiko smiled at her knowingly.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you."

It was more of a statement than a question – and when Amu didn't answer right away, Nagihiko knew the answer already.

"I-I wasn't thinking about him, exactly, I was just thinking –"

"About the reunion?"

Amu sighed, and nodded, shoving her cheek into the palm of her hand.

Due to all the chaos and mayhem that had been happening in her life up until that day, Amu had completely forgotten about the Seiyo High School Reunion until now. She didn't even know the purpose of it – weren't reunions supposed to happen later on in life, when everyone had settled down, gotten grandchildren and began to get wrinkles? She didn't understand the purpose of one right after college, but sure enough, Seiyo was having one; and Amu was one of the main guests.

Being the Joker in her high school club called "The Guardians", Amu was one of the hosts of the huge ball. Alumni from all years of graduation were to attend and re-introduce themselves to old acquaintances. For single young adults fresh out of college, it was sort of like a second chance at a high-school sweetheart they'd never had. For married couples, it was basically an excuse to show off her expensive husband and compare among men who'd bought the most pricey ring.

But, alas, Amu and her friends were indeed the most important part of the galla – the night revolved around their famously popular, charismatic King, Hotori Tadase, and the renowned cool-'n-spicy Joker, Hinamori Amu. The high-school sweethearts.

Or so everyone believed.

"I can't believe I forgot about it until now," Amu groaned.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, exactly." Nagihiko scratched his head. "I guess it's up to you."

"I want to go!" She reassured him. "Really, I do. Even if I didn't, I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't go."

"Then what's stopping you?"

She sighed, stirring her coffee.

"I don't know… I just have this bad feeling about the whole thing. I feel like if I go there, what with the people that are chasing him, I'll…"

Amu couldn't find a way to finish her thought, so she threw her hands up in frustration.

"I don't know, I just feel like I shouldn't do it. What if something bad happens?"

Nagihiko simply sighed, staring at her flustered face, her brow tightly drawn together in anxiousness. He remembered his conversation with Ikuto that morning, and placed his hand on Amu's lightly.

"I don't think you have to worry about that."

Amu looked at him with slight confusion in her eyes. Nagihiko smiled.

"Tsukiyomi is trustworthy – he would never let anyone or anything harm you in any way. He cares about you more than you think, Amu."

Amu stared at her hand, resting beneath Nagihiko's. Her distant, sparkling golden eyes were full of contemplative emotion.

She thought long and hard about Nagihiko's last words.

"I-I guess you're right," she said quietly, lost in her thoughts.

Nagihiko smiled, and removed his hand from atop hers, and took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I should really get back to work; I've got loads of it."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'll see you later, okay?"

"Uh-huh."

Nagi left a bill on the table for his food, and waved the dazed girl goodbye as he walked briskly out of the café.

He looked to the right, then to the left on the sidewalk. When he saw no sign of anyone familiar-looking, he sighed and walked down the sidewalk, back to the magazine company building.

"I hope you're happy, Tsukiyomi," he muttered under his breath. "I put in a good word."

* * *

_(A/N) – weird ending :3 sorry_

_but hey, everybody knows they're looking forward to the next chapter - the reunion! HUZZAH!_

_in case anybody didn't really understand what was going on with suspicious ikuto in this chapter, he's actually following amu and watching over her; like protecting her from any bad guys. he won't let her go out alone, just in case... and he won't let her know that he's protecting her, either... gah, he's just that sexy :3_

_also, my microsoft word spell-check was being disfunctional toward the end-half of this chapter, so i apologize for any spell mistakes... i proof-read it a couple times, if that helps._

_okay, kiddies! i'm back from vacation and on FIYAH! next chapter is already underway, but be mindful, it might take a little longer... it's pretty chock-full of awesomesauce :D_

_and did anybody notice the cameo appearance of amu's voice actor in the anime? :3 i'm just so clever._


	24. Take It All Away

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 23

* * *

"Amu, would you calm down?" Rima squawked in annoyance. "You're squirming like a toddler on the verge of an accident!"

Amu silently obeyed, keeping her body still as Rima leaned over her face and proceeded to do her makeup. As she lined her eyelids with black eyeliner, Rima wanted to smack the spastic, twitching girl in the face. She yanked down Amu's cheek with her thumb to reduce the incessant eye-twitching.

"Sorry, Rima…" Amu put a hand to her forehead, eyes creased with worry. "I'm just so nervous about tonight! I mean, you know I was never that charismatic –"

"Tadase will be doing most of the talking."

" – and I just know they're all gonna make me and Tadase do a pretty little slow-dance –"

"It's not my fault you decided to be the Joker."

" – and I have this bad feeling in my gut about those Easter people –"

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

Amu huffed abruptly, and stopped making excuses, glaring at her blonde, very frank friend. Rima stared back blankly, shrugging her dainty shoulders.

"Sorry, Amu, but any way you look at it, you're just being paranoid."

Amu pouted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Am not."

Rima seized the pout of her lips to apply a layer of light, rosy pink lipstick to Amu's lips. She penciled a thick line of silver sparkles on Amu's eyelid, making her golden eyes contrast with silver and diamond twinkles. Finally, Rima turned Amu's chair around to give her a glance at herself in the mirror. Amu stared at the sophisticated-looking woman in the mirror, and sighed; her clenched jaw and creased brow told all.

"Okay. I'm being paranoid."

Rima patted her on the back, smirking sarcastically. "That a girl."

"But for damn good reason!" Amu stood out of her chair, and followed Rima around Nagihiko's guest room.

Rima simply rolled her eyes, and pulled two dresses out of a small suitcase, laying them both out on the bed in the center of the room, along with two pairs of shoes. "Every reason you've given so far is simply an excuse – a reflection of your paranoia," Rima said, and proceeded to sit in the chair in front of the mirror, while Amu stood in front of her, proceeding to do the blonde's makeup in return. "You have absolutely no reason whatsoever not to go to this party."

"Except maybe that creepy FBI-people are chasing my boyfriend," Amu muttered, feeling a strange taste in her mouth at her last word – was boyfriend the correct terminology?

"Well, it's a good thing your _boyfriend_," Rima spat, apparently disliking the term as well, "isn't going."

Amu applied a thin layer of mascara to the blonde's long, curled eyelashes, nodding to herself.

"I guess you're right…"

"I'm always right."

The two friends got dressed and did their hair. The black rose in Amu's elegant up-do brought out the electricity in her bubblegum pink hair. Rima wore a simple, pretty headband of pearls. Before long, time had elapsed and the pink- and blonde-haired friends were staring at their full appearances in the wardrobe mirror.

Amu wore a long black, strapless dress that belonged to Rima – of course, Amu was taller than Rima, and the dress just so happened to be slightly too tall for the petite blonde. The sweetheart-neckline bore Amu's slender, well-defined shoulders more profoundly, and the dress sparkled head to toe with a gentle silver glow. On her slender waist was a pure white rose, protruding from her hip. She wore a long, silver chain necklace, a silver clutch purse, and silver high heels to match – Amu was almost afraid that she shimmered and sparkled a bit too much, but Rima reassured her bluntly.

"You look hot, Amu," said the blonde off-handedly, touching up her own makeup in the mirror.

Amu rolled her eyes.

"Right. Thanks, Rima."

Amu couldn't help but glance pleasantly at her cynical, yet ever-loyal best friend. She shone in her rosy, light pink cupcake dress; like a veritable _doll_. She wore a light pink rose in her hair, and carried a clutch with a rose of a similar shade. A simple necklace – a string of small pearls – provided the finishing touch.

Her simplistic choice of beauty could not have been worn by any other.

"Well, we should probably get going pretty soon –" Rima stepped into the sprays of perfume floating in the air, then looked at her phone irritably. "Where the hell is Yaya, anyway?"

"She said she was on her way," Amu said, smoothing some lotion on her legs slowly. "And you know how much trouble she has with makeup and party-prepping. She'll probably come over here half-naked, expecting us to dress her like a baby."

That earned a slight chuckle from the stoic comedienne, and Rima opened the door to the guest room to exit.

"I'm going to go see if Nagihiko's ready."

"Oh yes," Amu said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "You do that."

Rima could not escape fast enough in that situation, however; she'd hesitated just a bit too long at the door after Amu's smart comment, and in turn, Amu saw the telltale blush that flooded her doll-like cheeks before she rushed out of the room.

Amu looked at herself in the mirror one last time, tugging on a few strands of her curled bangs. She turned her back to the mirror, and examined the strings and complicated ties in the corset-like back of the dress. She loosened the string at the bottom a little, and exhaled deeply, relaxing her posture.

Suddenly, the door opened, and leaning against the door was none other than the elusive Ikuto. _Where did he come from?_ Amu stared at him incredulously, astonished by his sudden appearance.

"U-uh…" Amu unconsciously stuttered. She suddenly felt quite awkward and embarrassed. "W-well, how do I look?"

Amu self-consciously tugged on a curled piece of hair, feeling Ikuto's eyes measuring her up and down, burning holes in her skin. She tried her hardest to salvage what she could out of the completely blank expression on his face, and began to panic when he would say absolutely nothing – just stare.

Why did she even _care_ about what he thought? He wasn't even going. And yet… her heart began to beat quicker and quicker as Ikuto's intense eyes preformed several rounds of upside-down ping-pong.

"I-I thought of wearing something m-more casual, b-but I didn't really have much to –"

"Amu."

She looked up to the authoritative sound of her name, keeping her wide eyes trained on Ikuto as he walked slowly and steadily toward her, keeping his eyes focused directly on hers. He wrapped his arms behind her back, and pulled her close to him, simply staring into her eyes for what seemed like an _eternity_. Finally, Ikuto moved behind her, and wrapped his arms across her stomach, using one hand to tilt up her chin to meet the two of them in the mirror. Amu could see Ikuto's debonair grin, reflecting back at her, as well as her very own burnt-red cheeks as she felt his breath fan across her ear.

"You look _radiant_," he whispered.

Amu shivered blissfully, and found herself smiling, feeling suddenly more confident and poised for the first time that night.

_He always knew _exactly_ what to say. _

"Ahem."

The couple snapped their heads to the doorway, where Rima stood impatiently, averting her eyes from the embracing pair.

"Yaya's here. We're ready."

Amu snickered quietly as Rima whirled around and made a bee-line out of the room filled with romantic air. Amu turned around to face Ikuto directly – talking to his reflection in the mirror was just ridiculous – and stared up at him with more solemnity in her eyes.

"I guess it's time." She placed her hand over his, resting on her own waist. "Are you sure you'll be okay here?"

Ikuto smirked rebelliously; the look in his eyes told Amu that he knew something that she didn't.

"I'll find something to do."

Before Amu had time to break out in scolding and reprimand him for keeping secrets from her, she felt herself being whisked forward into Ikuto's chest, and enveloped in his strong, ever-relentless arms.

_Again with the hugs?_

But Amu was beginning to quite enjoy these moments of his – it was like an entirely different side of his rebellious, gruff behavior. Deep down, he was just one giant teddy-bear.

But in spite of all these melodious thoughts, Amu felt a sting of pain deep in her chest. She wrapped her arms around his chest, and clung tightly to the back of his shirt. She could not get the thought of those men out of her head – what if she was kidnapped? Ikuto would not be there to save her.

No one would be able to catch her when she fell.

"I promise," Ikuto said lowly, as if reading her thoughts. "I will not let anything happen to you."

She felt the vibrations of his low, firm tone in his chest. She fought the tears that threatened to gloss her eyes. It was like he could read her thoughts word-for-word by her actions; when she squeezed his hand, he knew that she was excited. When she got a dreamy, glazed look in her eyes, he knew that she was contemplative. When she folded her arms around herself, he knew that she was cold. And when she tensed dramatically in his arms, he knew that she was scared.

"I promise, Amu."

His voice was unbelievably warm and reassuring; determined. Amu knew, without a doubt, he meant what he said. Nothing would happen to her, and that was that. She felt unbelievably relief and the tenseness in her body left her after he spoke those words. She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and trying to prevent tears from falling.

"I know," she whispered.

Amu wanted to protest and hold him forever, but felt Ikuto pulling her away from his arms. He held her face in his warm, gentle hands, and Amu read the pure affection in his eyes.

"I guess it's show time, huh?" Amu smiled, trying to conceal her slightly watery eyes.

She brushed her eyes brusquely with the back of her hand, and smiled up at him. Ikuto stared at her with a look in his eyes that Amu's expert 'Ikuto-eyes-reader-o-matic' could not determine. Amu could not decipher the emotion in his eyes at that moment.

But before she could try to do so, she felt herself pulled forward, Ikuto's hands resting on her shoulders. Just when she thought she'd had a clear picture of his thoughts, he leaned down toward her, and pressed his lips against her forehead tenderly. Amu found the gesture sweet and kind – caring and affectionate.

But for some reason, she was left wanting.

The couple walked toward the door, meeting up with Rima, Nagihiko, and Yaya, all smiling at the pair with hands intertwined. Amu put on her coat, and stared at Ikuto with a peculiar curiosity. His eyes were filled with warmth and compassion, and although the smile was not present on his face, Amu felt contentment radiating from his temperament.

But for some reason, she was not. The majority of her felt warm and protected – but deep in the recesses of her heart, she was left feeling cold.

And as she and the others proceeded to walk out the door, and Amu gave Ikuto one last smile of goodbye, Ikuto smiled at her so genuinely that Amu could've sworn his smile had been replaced with another's. His smile was kind and wholehearted, and made her insides flutter like a flock of birds and butterflies and all creatures winged; but in her blind flutter of emotions, she did not see the traces of sadness in his eyes.

As she closed the door, she wanted nothing more than to turn right around and crash her lips against his, and tell him that she loved him – she wanted so much to speak those three words that she hadn't even _thought_ of in five years. But she quickly shook off the feeling of weakness, and remembered Ikuto's promise; nothing would happen to her.

Nothing was going to happen.

_He knows. He knows that you love him. _

-0-0-0-0-0-

"Oh, the memories," Nagihiko sighed as the group walked in the doors of Seiyo Academy.

The large, Victorian-style ballroom sparkled and shone with lighted crystal chandeliers and golden decorations that glittered in the splendorous lighting. Amu found it hard to believe that the room was as crowded as it seemed to be – being the size of a large football stadium, she was surprised there were so many people with which to fill it. The familiar faces whizzed by her like the scenery outside a moving car's window. It was all just a blur of nostalgia and nausea, until she was snapped out of it by loud applause and cheering.

Amu then realized that the whole room had turned their heads and cleared a path for the Guardians' arrival.

"Cheering? Really?" she muttered to Yaya.

"Oh, c'mon Amu, lighten up!" Yaya said, smiling and waving excitedly, drinking in the attention. "This is your highschool reunion. Just let the memories come back to you and you'll have a great time."

Amu sighed, taking off her coat and scarf with the others. For a moment, she wished that her parents hadn't spent so much money sending her to such a damn rich school. But she tried her hardest to brush off her cynicism, and remembering what Yaya said, she relaxed her shoulders and let herself breathe for the first time since the doors had opened.

_Have fun, Amu. Relax. _

"Good evening, everyone," came a voice from the sound speakers. Tadase was smiling on stage. "I think it's finally time to begin the evening's festivities. Please give a warm welcome to my fellow Guardians as they join me on stage, would you?"

The applause and cheering began again, filling the room and echoing from the walls as the group made their way to the elaborate stage. The way everyone watched and cheered and applauded, Amu felt very similar to a celebrity. Amu watched with intrigue as Nagihiko gently placed his arm around Rima's waist to assist her up the stairs when she wobbled in her high heels. Amu and Kuukai exchanged knowing glances upon observing their behavior. Amu was the last to ascend the stairs to the stage, and when she reached the top steps, she looked up to see a handsomely dressed Tadase smiling down at her with his gentle ruby eyes, offering her his hand.

"Good evening, Joker."

Amu never thought she'd enjoy hearing that title again. For the first time that night, she smiled wide, and placed her hand into his.

"Good evening, King."

They walked across the stage with smiling faces, staring out at the vast amount of Seiyo High alumni. Amu felt as if she were in just another Guardian's council meeting. The memories drifted back to her and she felt like a teenager again, just wanting to party all of her cares away.

The night passed by quickly. Amu felt herself loosening up after a few drinks, fairly certain that one of the former jocks of the school had once again seized the opportunity to spike the punch. She danced with her friends, and for the first time in a long while, she let laughter emerge from her lips. She could feel her cares drifting away one by one. When a slow song came on, Amu broke from the huge crowd and moved to the wall, leaning against it and sipping a glass of punch. She scanned the ballroom. Tadase was occupied entertaining a group of starry-eyed girls, no doubt still-single high school fangirls of his. Amu managed to capture his gaze once – she could see the true agony in his force-fed smile.

She turned her head to see Kuukai and Yaya in the midst of several men who Amu recognized as Kuukai's soccer team buddies, each one with an amused smile on their faces staring at Yaya. Kuukai, however, looked less than amused; Amu did not think it possible to see him this peeved when it wasn't the early morning. She could see the men eagerly pushing forward, closer to Yaya, and closing Kuukai out of the circle. No doubt they noticed how much the Ace had matured and developed since high school. Her short, tight pink tube dress and heels accentuated her dancer's legs and the sweetheart neckline was more than tempting to any sensible man.

And Amu knew for a fact that Kuukai was certainly wising up.

"Reminiscing?" she heard from a few feet away, and turned to see Nagihiko walking up to her with a euphoric smile.

"A little."

"I can see it written in your eyes, Amu. You miss high school after all."

She looked at him guiltily, the corners of her mouth spreading into a wide grin. "A little."

Nagihiko let out a chuckle, and loosened his thin lavender tie that brightened his hair and eyes. Amu held the wine glass with both hands, watching the smiling faces pass her by and the dancing couples spin around the floor. She let the nostalgia seep in, and swirled around the punch in her glass. She looked at her handsome friend, dazzling with his long hair pulled into a low ponytail and a gentle look in his soft sunshine eyes, which seemed trained on the wall opposite of them. She followed his gaze, and saw Rima smiling and talking calmly to a group of girls, no doubt avid fans of the famed Queen. She studied the look in his eyes and recognized it immediately.

Amu was not stupid. She knew that Nagihiko had once fought feelings for her. But the look that she saw in his eyes was the same look that he used to give her – a look of undivided attention, of unequaled protectiveness, and of exclusive affection. Amu gently placed her hand on his arm, and he turned to her with a look of slight confusion. A proper smile overcame her features.

"Nagi," she said softly. "Go for it."

And somehow, he understood. Amu couldn't recall a single moment when the debonair, collected, suave Nagihiko had ever blushed; this would no doubt go down in the books as the first.

Eventually, both Nagihiko and Amu got pulled aside by alumni who evidently had not changed since high school, and still insisted upon obsessing over the Guardians like some pop group, and Amu was forced to put on a smile and cursed her kindness towards strangers. She found a few of her high school girlfriends, whom she'd most likely befriended by saving them from some bully or another, and spent a few moments chatting and conversing, occasionally catching a glance from one of her fellow Guardians, seeming to express equal agony at the frantic fans whom they thought wouldn't still exist after high school.

Amu was barely listening to a girl from the cheerleading squad who had dreams and aspirations to cheer for some football team, and was reminding Amu of painful memories when she randomly burst into cheer in high school. Amu's gaze wandered over to the other wall, past the large crowd of dancing alumni.

She saw a man leaning up against the wall, with a black suit, black shirt and black tie. Amu found something familiar about his face. When he finished cleaning the glasses in his hand with his shirt sleeve and returned them to his face, Amu realized who it was. She almost fell over. _It couldn't b_e.

"—and that's how my grandmother tore her scrotum," she finished excitedly.

Amu looked directly at the girl. "Would you excuse me for a minute?"

"Oh, u-um, s-sure!" she replied anxiously.

Amu broke away from the chatterbox, weaved through the hyperactive crowd, and made her way over to the other wall. She walked directly towards him. She seemed to catch him off guard when she spoke.

"Seiichiro?"

-0-0-0-0-0-

"Wait for me here."

"Yes, Miss Utau."

She shut the door of the car and walked with quick footsteps down the cobblestone walkway. She pulled her head scarf around her hair, and put on her dark sunglasses. The quick pace of her high-heeled footsteps matched the rhythm of her pounding heartbeat. The inside of Seiyo High was lit up and alive. She could hear the music and chatter and festivity from the courtyards. When she reached the front gate, she immediately began to circle the school. She finally arrived in the courtyard that she knew was just outside the ballroom, and peered inside one of the windows, scanning the throngs of people for any sign of her friend. When she couldn't see her, she clenched her fists and filled herself with determination.

_Do it, Utau. _

She walked to the entrance door and placed a hand on the handle, ready to throw open the door and exercise crowd control, when suddenly she felt a firm grip on her arm.

"Utau."

She stopped suddenly. She didn't think to retaliate; to yank her arm away; not even to wipe the dumbfounded, shocked expression off her face. Her name pronounced by his low, authoritative voice echoed through her ears and she couldn't move. Finally, she regained control of her wits.

"What are you doing here, Ikuto?" she snapped lowly.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I need to speak to Amu."

"No, you don't."

She whirled around, and ripped the sunglasses off of her face, fully exposing her angry violet eyes in the low moonlight.

"Yes I do!" she whispered harshly.

"Not if your speaking involves throwing fists."

She put her head down, her angry eyes becoming filled with embarrassment and regret.

"It's not like that," she muttered. "I didn't…"

Ikuto stared at her intently. His intense gaze did not falter. As strong and tough as Utau was, she could not match his fierce stare.

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"Then what were you trying to accomplish, Utau?" Ikuto's voice was heated.

"Who cares? You're always there to protect her, anyway! It's impossible for anyone to touch her as long as you're around!" she shouted back, eyes scathing with hatred.

Her temper flared and burned her heart. She hated being a slave to her own bitterness. She whirled around and began to walk away from him, when she remembered her purpose. She stopped, took a breath, and turned her head slowly.

"Be prepared. Easter's been planning something. Tonight's the night. I don't know what it is, but it can't be good." She clenched her fists. "Don't take your eyes off of her for a second."

Ikuto stared at her dark figure in the shadows. Utau felt her temper cool slightly, and turned her face, looking him straight in the eyes. Unyielding indigo met harsh amethyst. She clenched her jaw tightly.

"Be careful, brother."

She turned and began to walk away.

"Thank you, sis." Ikuto's voice was low and warm.

The words sounded so foreign on his lips. Utau relished them, and they echoed in her mind as she walked away, into the dark night.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Seiichiro looked up and his bespectacled eyes grew wide. He shifted uncomfortably.

"H-Hinamori. Hey."

"Wow," Amu said unconsciously. "I can't believe how much you've changed."

She looked him up and down and didn't even know how she'd recognized him in the first place. His short, lanky figure had been replaced by a very tall, dark, very muscular man. His brown circular glasses had been exchanged for sleek, thin black-framed glasses. He looked like a secret agent; it was somewhat intimidating.

"Y-yeah. Time flies."

"It sure does," she said with a laugh. "If I hadn't known any better, I'd have thought you'd be waving an autograph booklet in my face."

His lip curled into an awkward, discomfited smile. "Yeah. Guess I've changed a bit."

Amu smiled. For some odd reason, she found herself actually wanting to talk to Seiichiro. Finally, there was someone from Seiyo High that she actually cared to catch up with.

"Hey, Amu!" Yaya greeted her with an excited hug, bouncing up and down. "I haven't seen you all night!"

Amu smiled at her. "Yaya, you remember Seiichiro, right?"

The bubbly girl looked up at the tall, bespectacled man and turned her head to one side, squinting her eyes. Then, she popped up like a toaster, with wide and excited eyes. Amu heard the _bing!_ sound in her head and smiled when she imagined bread flying from Yaya's head.

"Oh yeah, I remember you! You were the Joker's biggest fan," she winked and pointed a thumb at Amu. "She used to have to save you from the bullies all the time!"

"Y-Yaya," Amu muttered through her teeth.

Seiichiro grinned with embarrassment, scratching the back of his head. He finally seemed to loosen up, just a little.

"No, it's alright. I-I remember that pretty well."

Amu smiled at him, and was glad to see him smile at her. Yaya smiled at him as well, except much more cheesily, and quite frankly just creepily.

"Well, I'm sorry, Seiichiro, but I'm gonna have to steal Amu away from you for just a smidgen, 'kay?" She said, all too enthusiastically.

Amu didn't even have time to bid him farewell before her friend snatched her away and placed her hands on Amu's shoulders, staring her square in the eye with a look of strange seriousness.

"Amu, I don't know what to do. There's all these guys that won't leave me alone and I just can't understand it! I mean there I was, calmly enjoying a cup of punch, talking to Kuukai, when all of a sudden these guys just swarmed me like a pack of hounds! It's the weirdest thing, I couldn't think of what to do about it so I just smiled and stuff like that, and…"

Amu had stopped listening to Yaya and just smiled and nodded. She was staring directly behind her, across the ballroom, where she saw Kuukai himself looking miserable, plastering a nervous smile on his face and trying to handle a group of frantic, excitable girls, all the while glancing more than once at Yaya from across the room.

Amu couldn't help but feel an excitement bubbling up inside her. Everything was finally coming together. Everything that had been started when they all first met, and had been evolving and growing for so long, was finally coming to a close. Her fellow Guardians were finally beginning to see the light. She turned her attention back to Yaya.

"—and they were laughing at everything I said, which was weird, and it looked like Kuukai was getting mad at me –"

"Yaya." Amu grasped her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and confused. Amu smiled. "Just be yourself. Don't listen to others, listen to _you_. You'll be fine."

Yaya smiled softly, and her excited eyes became calm and serene. She took Amu's hands and stood on her toes.

"Thanks, Amu."

Just then, the lights grew dim. A strong white spotlight shone down on the stage, where Kuukai and Nagihiko stood with a microphone in hand. Amu did a double-take. _How did he get up there so fast?_ When she turned to look at the stage, she cringed. Immediately, she felt a nervous, aggravated ache in the pit of her stomach.

Of course, they were smiling evilly right at her.

"And now, it's time for a little high school prom flashback action," Kuukai announced.

"Tonight, we have a special treat for the Seiyo High alumni. It's time for the high school sweethearts, the King and the Joker, to come to the dance floor. Tadase Hotori and Amu Hinamori, please step right this way!" Nagihiko said, with dazzling flair.

The spotlight shone directly on Amu, nearly blinding her. Once again, the applause began, and every eye was on her. From across the room, she saw Tadase with the same squinted, befuddled expression. She looked at the stage bitterly, glaring at the two mischievous Jacks. Kuukai just grinned and winked; Nagihiko shrugged his shoulders with a pathetic smile, _as if_ he didn't have any involvement in the planning of the ridiculous event. Yaya jumped up and down excitedly, giggling and gently pushing Amu towards the dance floor. Reluctantly, Amu walked forward, followed by her persistent spotlight, where Tadase was waiting in the center of the dance floor with a nervous, but still gentle smile. The way he rung his hands anxiously and uneasily looked at the two evil masterminds standing on stage made Amu feel a little better.

Amu stood in front of him, half-smiling, with the butterflies in her stomach written all over her face. Tadase courteously took a bow, and extended his hand to Amu for the second time that night.

"May I have this dance, Amu?"

For a split second, Amu saw a look in Tadase's rose-colored eyes that she hadn't seen in years. A look of mystery, that she'd never quite been able to interpret. His eyes had always been so open and gentle, and so readable. Somehow, it was a mysterious gaze that comforted her; it put her mind at ease. And when she took his hand, she smiled and all of her doubts faded away like a vapor in the wind.

"You may," she laughed.

He swept her into his arms, placing a reassuring hand on her waist and the other in her hand. Amu gently rested her hand on Tadase's shoulder, feeling her hand tingle inside his. The atmosphere, the sappy love song, the spotlight – it brought back all too many memories of the past.

"By the way," he said in a soft voice, moving closer to her. Amu felt her cheeks heat up when he leaned in next to her head and whispered in her ear, "You look lovely."

She blushed conspicuously. The on-looking crowd reacted instantaneously, with several girlish squeals, sighs, and even some swoons. Amu tried to ignore them, but felt the nervousness bubbling up inside her again. Despite the awkward environment, she attempted to just enjoy a few moments "alone" (or rather, completely the opposite) with her friend Tadase.

"Are you having a good time?" Tadase asked.

Amu nodded. "I suppose. It certainly is interesting seeing all of these people again."

Tadase studied her face and his smile dampened. He could see Amu's creased brow, her shifty golden eyes, and the way her hand was shaking in his.

"You're uncomfortable," he said with dismay. He glared at the stage. "Those Jacks…"

"Oh, no!" She reassured him. "No, not at all! It just takes some getting used to. It's been quite a while since we've faced this much attention," she said with a laugh.

"That's very true," Tadase replied, the smile returning to his face, along with a telltale blush. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Amu nodded, smiling. _More memories than you know. _

"As embarrassing as it may be, I'm glad that I'm able to spend this dance with you, Amu."

She looked up, and found herself looking directly into his eyes. His soft, sparkling ruby eyes still held that same mystic charm. His usual shy, polite behavior seemed replaced with a charming, charismatic, captivating character. Amu felt those butterflies flare up again, and forced them down. The nostalgic high school atmosphere was bringing back a whirlwind of feelings that she had to be cautious in distinguishing. Tadase was a friend. Nothing more. Still, she couldn't help from smiling and blushing like a silly schoolgirl.

"I'm glad too."

They spent a few moments in silence, simply swaying to the mellow tone of the song playing over the loudspeakers. Amu couldn't help but feel comfortable and relaxed in his embrace – Tadase had a way of making her feel right at home. In the moment, she felt Tadase's hand tighten around hers, and felt his thumb caress her skin.

"Amu, I want you to know that I'm here for you."

His voice was soft and gentle, and it caught Amu by surprise. She looked up at him and stared into his eyes, bewildered. He looked down at her with affection in his eyes, but she could see the troubled front behind his kind, gentle affection.

"You haven't seemed yourself lately. Sort of distant. I…" his eyes became clouded with uncertainty. "…I know that he's disappeared, and that must be difficult for you. I can't imagine what you must be going through."

And that was when, for the first time that night, Amu thought of Ikuto. She stared at Tadase in silence, wide-eyed and mystified. His voice was soft and subdued as he spoke with a gentle sadness in his eyes.

"I can't compare to him, and I know that. I've always known that. As much as I wish your heart could belong to someone like me, it will always belong to him. And I…" he hesitated, and cast his eyes down. "I know now that no one can take the place of him in your life. I just hope that you can feel at ease confiding in me. There is nothing that will stop me from being there for you whenever you need a friend."

Amu felt deeply moved in her heart. She felt her eyes begin to moisten with tears as she stared into her friend Tadase's sad, sad eyes.

She'd never told him.

Tadase was the only one that had no idea that Ikuto wasn't missing at all – that he'd been with her all along. Amu suddenly felt a dull ache in her heart. All Tadase wanted was for her to be happy. He put aside his affections for her, his deep hatred for his cousin Ikuto, and all hindrances just so that he could tell her to confide in him.

"Tadase, I…"

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to say it. All she could do was stare directly into his eyes and remember everything she had to thank him for. Memories came drifting back to her, flooding her mind like a rainstorm.

Almost two years after Ikuto had left, it was Tadase who held her and danced with her at her senior prom. It was him who made her smile again. It was him who made her feel loved when her esteem was at its lowest. Because of that, the two were rumored to be "high school sweethearts." But Amu couldn't have cared less. Tadase was her friend. Tadase had always been her friend.

So why hadn't she told him?

That mysterious look in his beautiful rosy eyes was warm and inviting. The ice around her heart was beginning to melt.

"Tadase, I don't know how to say this. I… I should've told you before."

She felt her throat clenching and her stomach coiling in nervousness. He stared at her intently.

Suddenly, Amu was snapped out of her reverie when she felt a hard grip on her arm. She turned her head quickly. Standing there was a man in a black jacket, his head covered with a hood. Amu felt her heart skip a beat in nervousness – but when the man lifted his head slightly, she saw piercing midnight blue eyes cut through the shadow of the hood.

"Iku –"

She cut herself off, remembering her surroundings. Ikuto's grip on her arm was firm – she could sense that something was wrong. She looked back at Tadase, worry written in her eyes.

"Tadase, I…I'm sorry," she whispered.

And with that, she released herself from his arms and quickly followed Ikuto through the crowd.

"Amu? Amu, wait!" Tadase yelled, hurt and concern laced through his voice.

Amu didn't stop, and it killed her inside. She managed to steal a glance behind her, just as Nagihiko was placing a hand on Tadase's chest, stopping him from following her as they ran out the door.

_I'm sorry, Tadase. _

-0-0-0-0-0-

"Ikuto, what's wrong? Where are we going?"

Ikuto hadn't stopped running since they'd exited the building. They were now in the southern area of Seiyo's courtyards, and Amu was running out of breath. He wasn't giving her answers, and she didn't know how much longer she could blindly follow him at this speed.

"Ikuto!" she finally shouted, rather loudly, tugging on his arm and stopping dead in her tracks. She glared at him determinedly. "What the hell has gotten into you? Tell me what's going on!"

Finally, Ikuto turned around. His expression was grave and serious. Amu wished that she hadn't asked. He faced her directly and placed his hands over hers.

"Amu… you've been followed."

It took her a moment to register his words. "…What?"

The look on Ikuto's face was beginning to scare her.

"Amu." Ikuto grabbed her shoulders, his tone grimly serious. "They're here."

Her heart sank in her chest. She knew exactly who _they_ were. She felt a sense of panic for only a split second; but was overcome with her strong will to be calm. Her knees began to shake.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know yet. But it's not safe to be here." He grabbed her hand and dragged her. "C'mon."

Amu held him back, and stared at him with eyes narrowed with fear. Everything was beginning to dawn on her.

"They're... they've been following _me_?"

Ikuto turned toward her with a look of dead seriousness across his face. His eyes were tense and apprehensive. He began his explanation, "I don't –"

"They've been watching me all this time?" Amu's voice cracked, as the true panic began to set into her blood. "W-wh… oh my g-god…"

"Amu."

Ikuto's firm voice cut deep through her blind fear. He grasped her shoulders in his hands, and forced her gaze to lock with his.

"Do you trust me?"

It was not a demand, it was not a request – it was a statement, filled with strong emotion that Amu had only seen him exhibit at rare times. His voice was subdued in Amu's ears, clouded and blocked out by every single worried thought that could ever enter her cluttered mind. Her heartbeat quickened. Amu couldn't look at him.

"Y-yes," she whispered under her breath.

"Amu!" Ikuto repeated, louder. His voice was sharp and edgy. "_Do you trust me?_"

Amu stared into his eyes with fear etched on her face. She swallowed hoarsely. Finally, she managed to grab hold of her reckless imagination, forced herself to snap out of her senseless panic, and wrapped her mind around the situation at hand. She had to be strong. She nodded, more confidently.

_Be strong, Amu. _

"Yes, I do. I trust you, Ikuto."

He squeezed her hand with a sense of urgency, and grasped the back of her head with his other hand. He pressed his lips against her forehead, tenderly and lovingly. Amu closed her eyes, and relished his warmth as if it were the last embrace she'd ever feel from him again. She breathed in the moment, taking it all in and clutching so tightly to his hand that she couldn't feel hers anymore. She felt tears stinging at her eyes, and her breathing grew heavy as Ikuto pressed his forehead against hers and just held her hands. The barely recognizable contact was enough to send her emotions into overdrive.

It all felt so familiar to her; just like another goodbye. Just like the goodbye that he said to her five years ago when he left her… to save her life. Her stomach clenched in a coil, and she shivered at that thought. She did not open her eyes – no tears were going to fall. Not now.

_Be strong. _

"I trust you," she whispered again.

She only wished that she had the courage to replace the center word with what she _really_ wanted to say.

Ikuto remained solemn and determined as he led her by the hand through the courtyard of Seiyo Academy – they walked quickly and silently, and eventually Amu removed her high-heels and held them in her hand, to reduce her loud footsteps against the cobblestones. They found themselves in the gardens, and Ikuto led Amu through a tall, thick maze of greenery and bushes.

_I trust you, Ikuto._

Amu kept repeating it in her head, over and over, until the words were penetrated into her thick skull. She eventually began to whisper it soundlessly to herself as Ikuto led her by the hand through the never-ending maze in Seiyo's gardens. Many a time, she had gotten lost in this maze – always when she was alone. The uneasiness in her heart did not help her inward panic of being lost once more.

But she had nothing to worry about – Ikuto was holding her hand, guiding her through every twist and turn.

Finally, when she had become numb to the silence, Ikuto spoke lowly.

"You've got to leave."

"Leave?" The word had all too many meanings. "Leave where?"

"Away from here," he said hastily.

Amu opened her mouth to say something, but found her throat constricted. She knew that she was in danger, and she would do anything to be with Ikuto – but _leave_? Leave everything that she ever knew and loved behind?

She was unusually silent – Ikuto had expected some sort of protest. But Amu was at a loss for words.

"I…" Amu tried to speak, but to no avail.

Ikuto felt her hand tense around his, and read her anxious, uneasy expression, before she lowered her head and hid her eyes from him. Ikuto stopped walking, and grabbed her other hand in his. He tried to lift up her chin, but could not capture her gaze. Ikuto sensed her edginess. Her hair covered her eyes, and her grip on his hand was bone-crushing.

"Amu, do you understand? You have to –"

"No."

Ikuto was taken aback by her sudden transformation – her voice was low and authoritative. She looked up at him with a clenched jaw and fiery golden eyes.

"_We_ have to leave."

"Amu, I'm not putting you in –"

"I don't care."

Ikuto's eyebrows creased with anger. His midnight, sparkling blue eyes grew dark and angry. He suddenly grabbed Amu forcibly by the shoulders, and brought her inches from his face, shaking her roughly.

"Listen to me!" he shouted with rage. "Those men will kill you to get what they want! You have to get away from here!"

"I'm not leaving without you!"

"You don't have a choice, Amu!"

"I am **NOT** leaving this goddamn place without you!" she screamed.

At those words, Ikuto fell silent. Amu glared at him with unshed tears in her eyes, her jaw compressed too tightly and her fists clenched too hard. He released his tight hold on her shoulders, staring down at her like a skyscraper. Neither of them were willing to break down. Neither were willing to surrender. That's how it had always been. Amu had never known such a captivating, communicative silence such as that moment in her entire life.

But then, Ikuto's eyes softened. He took her hand, as gently as he ever had before. Amu felt her anger lifting. Something in his somber, grave midnight eyes seemed different to her. And in that moment, she saw the true apology written in his eyes.

"Let's go," he said quietly.

The heavy weight of worry on her heart was lifted in the smallest, most drastic way. And when she took his hand again, she felt a new sense of accomplishment. Once again, they were running. This time they were running _together_.

They began to make their way through the green maze once again, running further and further away from the light of the building. The darkness engulfed them in a shroud, and Amu found it difficult even seeing Ikuto in front of her. She forced herself to feel a sense of relief that she was holding his hand. As long as her hand was in his, she was alright.

That was when it happened.

They rounded a sharp corner, and Ikuto was moving too quickly. She didn't even have time to scream. All she could feel was a brutal force yanking her back around her stomach – and her hand slipped out of his.

She wasn't holding his hand anymore.

"Amu? _Amu!_"

Amu couldn't wrap her mind around how quickly the situation was spiraling out of control. She could hear Ikuto shouting her name in the darkness, frantic and panicked. She felt the strong, crushing grip holding her by the wrists and clasping her mouth shut. Her captor was moving, fast. She struggled as much as she could, but his grasp was like a straitjacket. She couldn't move. She wasn't processing her thoughts fast enough to realize exactly what she was doing, but she did it anyway.

She clamped her teeth down on his hand. _Hard_. His hand flew off of her mouth, and she did the first thing she knew.

She screamed. "IKUTO!"

In turn, his hand around her wrists loosened considerably. He let out a cry of pain – in a familiar voice – and Amu briefly freed her hands from his grasp and thought fast. She realized that she was still clutching her shoes in her hand; her high-heeled shoes. She gripped the shoe and just when he had begun to get his hold on her again, she fiercely dug the heel into her captor's leg. She didn't have time to cringe when it pierced the skin deeply and he cried out in pain. All she could think of was running.

_Run, Amu. _

She dashed as fast as her legs could carry her, her adrenaline racing like a motor. Her blood was thumping and her heart was pulsating in her chest. She didn't know how to escape the maze but she had to keep running – just keep running.

The darkness was closing in on her and more than once she slammed into a tall wall of shrubbery. The sharp turns were taking their toll on the soles of her bare feet. But she couldn't stop.

Suddenly, Amu heard a loud _crunch_ behind her. He'd broken through the maze's wall. Amu screamed one last time before the sound was aborted by a hand slapped across her mouth. She fought and kicked and writhed – but then, a strong hand grasped the back of her neck directly at her pressure points. She felt herself go limp. Paralysis struck her system and everything went black when she knew her eyes weren't closed. She wanted to keep fighting, she tried; but she knew that her efforts were futile. She couldn't move. She was like putty in his hands.

The wind rushed through her hair and she knew that he was running. She could hear Ikuto's distant cry, shouting her name, subdued in her subconscious state. Strangely enough, Amu felt more alert and more alive than she'd ever felt in her life. She became extremely aware that she was being kidnapped. A thousand possibilities and scenarios ran through her mind and a thousand more strategies and ways of escaping entered and exited her brain at lightning speed. She never knew she was capable of thinking in such huge capacities. But she was deprived of her senses and couldn't do anything about it. It was like being caged in an iron lung, in a room blacker than midnight. She heard his footsteps change sound – _clip-clop_ – he was in the courtyard. Her senses were coming back to her. She felt his hand enclosed tightly over her mouth. She felt a tingle in her fingertips where his tense grip around her wrists was cutting off her circulation. She felt a bony shoulder thrust into her stomach and knew that she was thrown over his back like a common pathetic kidnapped girl. Finally, her sight began to return, and smudges of light began to appear in her eyes from the outside of the school.

Amu's hopes became alive again when she heard lightning fast footsteps quickly approaching behind.

Suddenly, she felt herself being thrown off of the man's shoulder and the wind was knocked out of her lungs when she slammed to the ground, and rolled a few feet on the cold, hard cobblestone. She managed to catch herself and coughed out the restricted air in her chest. Through blurred vision, she could see Ikuto standing over her assailant, who was slowly standing up from a damaging blow. Ikuto quickly moved to Amu, and knelt by her side. He tenderly held her face in his hands.

"Amu, are you alright?"

Amu stared up at him through hazy, clouded eyes and nodded. She couldn't tell him how scared she was. She had to be strong. She saw a sudden, quick movement behind him and shouted,

"Ikuto, look out!"

Quicker than lightning, he sprang to his feet and dodged his attacker. Amu could see everything clearly now. Her vision had finally cleared, and she saw Ikuto fighting with a man in a black suit. He wore glasses.

Her heart sank.

"Seiichiro, no…"

The whole scene was a déjà vu if she'd ever witness one. Everything that had brought them together that first night was being replayed in this moment. Seiichiro limped, his thigh bleeding profusely through a hole in his dress pants. Ikuto was as agile and nimble as ever, having recovered almost completely from his injuries that had occurred what seemed like weeks ago. The two fought neck-in-neck, throwing swift punches and angled kicks and dodging skillfully. Both had training, Amu could see that clearly.

What captivated her more was the anger in Ikuto's eyes, and the pain in Seiichiro's.

Amu began to panic when a black van pulled up on the street directly beside them. She stood up wearily, trying to brush off the dizziness, and felt her fear and adrenaline increase with each black-clothed bodyguard that emerged from the van.

"Ikuto, they're here," she said under her breath, her voice laden with panic.

She moved behind him, and he placed a protective arm on her waist, placing himself in front of her. Just like when Yoru had come to her apartment, Ikuto's protective instincts kicked in and his eyes became filled with malice and indignation. He scanned the mob of men in black suits. Easter's lackeys. He knew he was outnumbered when he counted past five. He clutched Amu closer to him and did not relent the hatred in his eyes.

Seiichiro stood before the mob with a bleeding leg and upper lip, panting heavily. The other men stood, arms crossed, prepared for a fight from the stubborn, hot-tempered heir to the company.

"Give it up, Tsukiyomi," came a raucous voice from the men in black suits.

"You're no match."

Amu felt herself slowly letting go of all hope that she had clung to so dearly. She felt tears sting at her eyes and forced them not to fall. The fear made her voice quiver and shake.

"Ikuto, you've got no choice…" she whispered.

"Run, Amu." He turned his head swiftly, with a look of fierce, vicious rage in his eyes. "**Run**."

And just like that, Ikuto hurled himself at the mob with a raging battle cry and began throwing mad punches and rampant kicks. Amu had never seen him lose control so hysterically. His command was echoing in her mind. _Run, Amu. _Her head was telling her to go, but her heart was telling her to stay. Ikuto was incapable of fighting so many men on his own. But was she really ready to die today?

She felt frantic as she could no longer control her thoughts. Her mind was spinning out of control, and before she could take two steps in the opposite direction to run, one of the men grabbed her roughly and began taking her away, toward the van in the street.

"Let me _go! _Bastard!" She kicked and screamed as much as she could, hardly able to breathe.

"Amu!" Ikuto cried. He could not break free of the men surrounding him. He lost his focus and got taken down with one swift blow to the face. He screamed her name again, trying to get off the ground, when a man stepped directly on his spine, _hard_.

"Like that, rebel boy?" he taunted.

"Ikuto!" Amu screamed frantically.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the asphyxiating grip around her body was released and she heard a pained groan from her captor. He crumpled to the ground behind her. She whirled around, and saw Kuukai standing with an angry scowl, standing poised with his leg in the air.

"That felt good," he said lowly, a menacing grin crossing his face.

"Kuukai…?" was all Amu could manage.

Then, Nagihiko suddenly appeared and took on the man holding Ikuto down, using smooth, lightning-quick movements to distract and bewilder the man before sending him a quick jab to the face with his elbow, finishing him off with a roundhouse punch to the face. He fell to the ground, and Nagi stood over him and stomped on his chest with the most horrifyingly angry look in his eyes that Amu had ever seen.

"Scumbag," he murmured in a low, harsh voice that Amu didn't know he possessed.

Ikuto stood up quickly, dusting himself off and panting heavily. Nagihiko found himself back-to-back with the navy-haired fighter, surrounded by a circle of Easter's angry thugs. Kuukai put his hand around Amu's waist and whisked her away, behind the group and as far away from the black van as possible.

"Stay here," he said lowly. He placed a brotherly hand on her head, and gave her the most intense, serious look that Amu had ever seen in Kuukai's gentle, lazy eyes. He quickly removed his tuxedo jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

He joined the other two, and the three stood in a combative triangle, poised and ready to battle. Easter's men looked violently angry – their teeth were bared and they snarled like angry bloodhounds. Amu watched with a horrible, horrible enthrallment. She couldn't bear having to sit back and do nothing. Her knees were quivering and buckling, and she could hardly muster the strength to stand. But she had to.

She had to take a stand.

"Please be careful," she shouted, her voice cracking with fear.

Almost as soon as the words escaped her mouth, the men in black suits threw themselves forward and Ikuto, Kuukai, and Nagi each moved apart and began throwing fists and kicks at a speed that was too fast for Amu to comprehend. Kuukai took a hard blow to the face and was knocked down, but used his soccer skills and footwork to spin around and kick out the man's legs, landing back on his feet and knocking the man out completely. Nagi and Ikuto made a team and tore through a group of men like a hurricane, sending out rapid punches and kicks in succession and taking down more than one at a time.

"Amu!" she heard someone call behind her.

She whirled around, and saw Tadase, Rima, and Yaya all running towards her with horrified expressions and confusion in their eyes.

"What's going on?" Tadase shouted, horror and shock in his voice.

"Oh my god…" Yaya whispered in fear. Rima clung to her wordlessly, shaking in fear.

Amu didn't have the strength, nor the courage, nor the concentration to respond. She could turn her eyes away from the violent brawl happening before her. She was terrified of how it all would end. Shock had overcome her like a blood-clotting toxin. She felt as if she couldn't move. Too many things were happening all at once. Too much, too fast. She clenched her fists tightly. She felt the tears fill her eyes when she saw Ikuto get struck down with a punch. She saw bloodstains on Nagi and Kuukai's white dress shirts. The Easter men were dropping like flies, only to stand right back on their feet again. The three of them were wearing down.

But there was no end in sight.

Suddenly, there was a resonant _bang_ that sliced through the tense air.

No one moved. The men in suits were unarmed. Time seemed to freeze. At the end of the cobblestone path, a blonde woman dressed in black stood with a gun in her right hand and her arm stretched out.

And then, Ikuto crumpled to the ground.

"_Ikuto!_"Amu screamed, running forward and falling to the ground at his side.

He sprawled out on the stone cold ground, where a pool of blood began to gather beneath his chest. She saw his chest rising and falling at a quick, rapid pace, thankful that he was breathing. She cried his name over and over, praying to every god in the universe that he could hear her. Everything around her became a blur. She could not breathe.

Around her, everyone was still frozen. All eyes were wide and fixated both on Ikuto, and on the blonde woman walking forward slowly with a malicious, wicked scowl. One of the men in black dared to speak.

"B-But Miss Misaki, we were given direct orders not to –"

"_Shut up_!" she shrieked vindictively.

Everything was silent. No one dared to make a move. Dia Misaki held the gun directly trained on Ikuto. Without taking her eyes off of him, she nodded her head and said,

"Grab her."

Amu felt herself being torn from Ikuto's side and kicked and screamed violently.

"_No!_ Let me go!" Tears poured down her cheeks. "You heartless bastards!"

Ikuto heard her cries and slowly began to get up. He let out a grunt of pain as he held his wound with his hand. The blood poured out of his chest slowly, staining his clothes, his skin, and the ground with deep crimson red. He looked up with eyes filled with pain and scathing hatred.

"Let her **go**." He growled. He began to rise to his feet.

Dia matched his hatred with her venomous topaz eyes. She did not hesitate when she pointed the gun directly at Amu's forehead.

"Stay where you are, or your bitch eats it."

And all of a sudden, Amu grew numb. All of the fear, all of the apprehension, all of the anger was sucked into the vacuum of the barrel she was staring down. She stopped struggling. She stopped fighting. She stopped caring what happened to her.

All she cared about was Ikuto.

All she wanted was to keep him alive. And if it meant she had to die, she wanted to.

Was this the love he felt when he left her behind?

As she felt the rough grasp on her wrists pushing her towards the black van, she did not relent. She did not fight. She let herself be led to the proverbial gallows. Dia still trained the gun to her head, making her way into the passenger seat of the van. Amu closed her eyes as the silence became too much to overcome.

"Amu… no…!"

She felt a sting of pain in her chest when she heard Ikuto's pained cry. She relished the sound of his voice, as strained and broken as it sounded. The man opened the door and Amu was turned around to look at him one last time.

She did not realize how many tears were flooding down her cheeks. She knew that this was goodbye because no other feeling in the world could hurt this much. She stared into his eyes – those beautiful, midnight blue eyes filled with pain and regret and torment – and choked on the whisper that escaped her lips.

"I love you."

And they threw her into the car and slammed the door behind them. She felt a searing pain against the back of her head and the last word she heard before everything went dark was,

"Drive."

Ikuto was overtaken with grief and livid anger. All of the pain and regret swelled up inside him and he watched as the van began to drive away. He clenched his fists. He let out a grating, broken cry into the night and stood to his feet. Without hesitation, he ran madly after the van, screaming angrily, blood dripping from his chest onto the cursed road. Every last piece of his sanity was torn to shreds and he did not stop running. He couldn't.

He had to catch her.

He had to catch her when she fell.

He felt his legs cripple beneath him, and when they gave out he felt the impact of the concrete hit him full-force. He felt his stomach explode into a million pieces. He coughed and felt his heart splatter onto the pavement. He heard voices screaming his name from beyond, getting closer and closer. He felt a hand on his back and on his face, and it wasn't hers. She was gone.

He'd let her go.

The last thing he felt was the wet tears on his face.

_Amu… _

_I'm sorry… _

* * *

_(A/N) – wow. is there anything i can say after that?_

_that's right, folks. i'm back. i apologize vehemently for the wait - but now you've got an even bigger cliffhanger to chill on. should've brought snacks and rock-climbing gear, kids..._

_the story is NOT OVER. please heed this. think about it carefully. why would i bother to continue a story about Ikuto and Amu if Ikuto died...? think about it. yep. not dead. err, i mean, UMM he may be he may not be :3_

_it's been over a year since i've updated this story, and i apologize. if anybody wants to scream my head off via review, i'm all for it. i deserve it. but see, i plan on finishing this story if it dun kills me to deaf. hokay?_

_great. so thanks for reading. i appreciate it greatly. if you want, gimme a summation on how you want it all to end in a review or a pm. i'd like to hear others' opinions. thanks a bunches guys. _


	25. Hymn For the Missing

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 24

* * *

They'd been sitting in silence for more than two hours now.

No one made a sound – no one had any sound to make. The clock read 4:27 am. The air inside the apartment room was tight and constricted, because no one was breathing it in. It seemed as if all life had been sucked out of that room.

The Guardians were never ready for a test of friendship such as this.

The one who showed them their true selves, the one that brought them to each other to become one family, the one who kept them from going their separate ways after the group had disbanded – she was gone.

The person that always held them together was gone.

Without her, the Guardians were just shells of the individuals they'd grown to become because of her. The unbreakable bond between them was quickly unraveled, just as fast as she'd disappeared. No one was speaking because no one knew what to say. The pensive silence was all that filled their ears.

The memory of everything that had transpired hours earlier still burned in their minds, rendering them speechless.

* * *

_"Please! Somebody help!" Yaya cried hysterically when the doors burst open. _

Everyone in the hospital turned their heads. Kuukai, Tadase, and Nagihiko carried Ikuto's limp body through the waiting room, careful to keep him steady. Rima bravely ran beside them, looking wearied and sick as she applied pressure to the chest wound with a blood-stained cloth. Yaya ran to a group of doctors, who were wide-eyed and bewildered.

"Please, help him," she breathed, choking on her sobs. "He needs help!"

"This way," said a nurse, trying to appear calm in the midst of the panic and confusion.

They ushered him down a long hallway, Kuukai holding his legs and Nagi and Tadase working together to hold his upper body steady. Rima was pale and frightened, covered in blood and trying her hardest to keep up with the boys, applying as much pressure as she could when the bloodied cloth flew out of her hands.

"Keep going, Rima," Nagihiko encouraged when he saw the horror on her face.

She nodded in determination and pressed down on Ikuto's open side. Kuukai looked over at the wall and shouted,

"Yaya, get that bed, quick. He's slipping!"

Yaya moved faster than anything, rolling the white hospital gurney into the middle of the hallway. Together, the group put their hands beneath his body and laid him gently onto the gurney. The few doctors that were following them seized hold of the cart and looked at the Guardians with a nod.

"We'll take it from here."

They quickly ushered him through the swinging double doors and disappeared, out of sight. The group was breathing heavily, holding their knees and trying to get a hold of their shaken minds. Kuukai slid down the hospital wall, wheezing deeply, his face painfully distorted and his eye blackened and swollen shut. Nagihiko was in even worse shape, with a gash to his forehead and his jaw. Yaya held her head tightly, panic stricken, and crumpled to the floor, chestnut eyes wide and trembling in fear. Tadase knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking more shocked and traumatized than any of them.

Rima broke out of her stunned silence and burst into violent tears. The sobs ruptured from her small, frail body, and she trembled intensely. Her shaking hands and clothes were covered in the blood that belonged to Ikuto. She couldn't move from where she stood; she couldn't even feel herself standing at all. Nagihiko reached and brought her close to his chest, holding her tightly no matter how much she thrashed and shook and screamed. Her piercing cries resounded through the halls, and everyone around her knew that she couldn't control it.

The screams echoed through their heads and they suddenly realized, very vividly, what they'd just done.

Everything that happened was real.

Time passed slowly, and they sat in that hallway for what felt like hours. A few nurses came to Nagihiko and Kuukai to treat their battle wounds, but the two refused treatment. The nurses left them with a few bandages and disinfectant, exchanging looks between each other at the numb state of the group.

Over time Rima had finally quieted her screams, and entered a state of silent, frozen trauma. Nagihiko never removed his arms from her small, shaking, blood-coated body.

"You know they're going to tell someone."

Kuukai's voice was the first to speak. Everyone was pulled out of their trances and looked directly at him. His eyes were somber and grave – an expression that was seldom seen on Kuukai's face.

"It's impossible for those doctors not to know who he is. The news is gonna spread like wildfire."

Just then, Tadase stood up. No one had seen emotion elicit from his face until right then. His jaw was taut, his fists were compressed, and his regularly soft rosy eyes were filled with red fire.

"I'll take care of it," he said, in a voice that no one recognized as his.

He walked down the hall, and disappeared through the double doors. Yaya was left sitting alone against the wall. She curled up her knees into her chest, and folded her arms around herself. She _hated_ to be alone.

Kuukai knew that from the very beginning.

He stretched out his legs, and Yaya looked up when his foot brushed against her leg. She looked up at him from across the narrow hall, and he looked at her. They couldn't smile – not now – but their eyes were soft and gentle. She stretched out her legs and touched her feet to his, feeling comfort and warmth from the simple touch. And with that, she didn't feel alone.

Suddenly, the double doors opened wide and Tadase walked out, pushing Ikuto on the gurney. Everyone's eyes grew wide.

"What are you doing?" Nagihiko spoke up, incredulous.

Tadase just stared angrily. "We've got to get him out of here."

Yaya stood up quickly. "W-where can we bring him?"

Yaya quickly walked across the hall, leaned down and Kuukai swung an arm around her shoulder, helping him onto his feet. He gave her arm a squeeze in gratitude.

"Can't be my place," Kuukai said. "They've tracked us there before."

"He can stay at my place," Nagi said quickly. "That's where he's been staying."

Tadase shook his head and pushed the bed forward, leaving everyone to follow. No one had ever seen him this way and they knew that he had reason to be. His voice was low and authoritative.

"He's going home with me."

No one argued.

* * *

His bruised and beaten chest rose and fell slowly.

The gunshot wound on his left pectoral was neatly bandaged, as was the cut on his face, just along his cheekbone. He slept peacefully, probably for the first time in weeks.

And all the Guardians could do was sit and wait for him to wake up.

Their bodies were spent. Their minds were worn and twisted. The silence of Tadase's apartment was more than any of them could take, but they took it anyway. Tadase was sitting on the coffee table, staring intently at his wounded cousin, still pensive and intense. Rima sat erect on a chair in the dining room, staring blankly into space, the trauma of it all still sinking in. Tadase had given her a change of clothes, and Yaya had to help her change into them. They could almost see the horrid bloodstains mirrored in her wide, glazed eyes.

Nagihiko watched over her carefully. The deep cuts on his face had been bandaged, thanks to Yaya, and she now tended to Kuukai's battered face. Yaya knew that she had to keep her head on her shoulders – situations like this, when no one else would, Yaya had to finally step up and be mature.

Everyone sat in grave, contemplative silence. A thousand things were impressed upon their minds to speak aloud, but no one dared speak them. The tension in the air was too thick to break.

And then, it happened.

Someone broke the silence.

"I knew he wasn't stupid enough to run away."

Everyone turned their attention to the person they least expected to hear speak such malicious words. Tadase's distant gaze grew bitter and full of hate.

"Idiot." His voice was low and gravelly. "He couldn't stay away if he tried."

Kuukai sat up slightly. He didn't like Tadase's behavior. "He saved her life, man."

"And what has he done for her now?" he retorted, like lightning.

The room was silent again. Tadase stood up, tearing his eyes away from his hated cousin with disgust. He began to pace unstably around the room. Yaya cringed when she saw the anger beginning to form in Kuukai's eyes, trailing Tadase's movements like a hawk. She pushed him back against the chair, and pressed the ice against his black eye.

"Amu tried to tell you, Tadase," Nagihiko said slowly, careful of his rising temper. "She hated keeping it from y –"

"If she hated having to keep it from me, then why didn't you all help her?" His eyes were filled with fury, and his temper had long begun to spiral out of control. "Why did you all _lie_ to me?"

"Would you quit worrying about your precious little ego?" Kuukai yelled irritably. "There's no time for your whining! Amu's missing, you've got a bleeding guy on your couch –"

"That bleeding man is the reason Amu is gone," Tadase growled. "Don't you all get it? He's the reason she's gone! Ikuto brings trouble wherever he goes – this time he's gotten Amu kidnapped!"

Kuukai pushed Yaya's arm away and stood up, jaw clenched tightly.

"He was trying to protect her from those people."

"She wouldn't need protecting if he hadn't come in the first place!" Tadase shouted.

The two men were inches from each other's faces, spewing violently angry words with veins bulging and eyes scathing with fury. No one realized that either of them were capable of this kind of rage.

"Guys, stop it!" Nagihiko cut in heatedly.

"I can't believe you'd be so heartless to your own cousin," Kuukai snarled.

"Ikuto screwed up my life!" Tadase screamed, louder than anything. "He screwed up my life, he screwed up his own life, and now he's screwed up Amu's. He should never have come back. He's got no place, anywhere! That _damn_ black cat brings misfortune wherever he goes!"

"You're so freakin' high and mighty it makes me sick!"

"At least I'm better than that _bastard!_"

"**STOP it**!"

The shrill scream cut directly through their heated argument, their anger, and their livid loss of control. Yaya placed both hands on Kuukai's and Tadase's chests, pushing them apart with tears in her eyes. She looked up at them with her innocent eyes, dripping with tears that none of them had ever seen her cry before.

No one realized that Yaya had never cried.

"Stop fighting..." she whimpered. "Amu wouldn't want it this way…!"

And then, their angry expressions transformed. Suddenly, Tadase found himself again. His eyes softened, and he unclenched his jaw and his fists, not knowing how tightly he'd held them shut.

The look of horror on his face when he saw Yaya's tears was unmatched.

He sank into a chair and held his head in his hands. The look of pain and distress in his eyes could not have been more clear.

"I…" his voice was shaking. "I'm so sorry…"

Yaya tried to hold back her tears, but let out quiet sobs behind the quivering hands that she tried covered her face with. Kuukai felt a pang of guilt and sorrow in his chest. Nothing could've possibly made him hurt more than he was physically, than Yaya's tears. He moved forward and placed an arm around her small, slender frame, and she collapsed into his chest, letting out quiet, choking sobs against his shirt. Kuukai placed a loving hand on the back of her head.

"I'm sorry too, Yaya." His voice was soft and warm.

He felt her nod against his chest, hearing sniffling sounds and tiny blubbering whimpers. Through it all, Kuukai managed to let out a small, irrepressible smile.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear,

"You're a crybaby, y'know that?"

And at those words, Yaya felt unbelievable relief. Those words were the old Kuukai – the one she knew and loved. Those words assured her that everything was going to be okay. She smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes and wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly.

Tadase ran his hands through his blonde hair, slumped in his chair and staring at the floor. The shock of everything was now beginning to sink in, like a submarine, and Tadase couldn't shove it down. He pressed his hands together in a tight fist, staring blankly. He couldn't understand it. For a few hours, he'd lost control of who he was. He didn't know what he was doing – all he knew was that he wasn't himself anymore.

In a flash, his character changed completely.

It had happened before. When it was all over, he remembered every single word he'd said; every word of hate he'd spat out, every angry threat he'd made, every punch he threw. He couldn't believe he'd lashed out at his friends like that. He wished they didn't have to see – but he knew it was coming.

It was always when Ikuto was around.

* * *

_"How is he?" his voice was low and straightforward. _

The doctors turned their heads and stared at Tadase, walking into the room with a look of grave seriousness. There was not a speck of concern in his eyes when he cast his gaze on Ikuto, laying on a bed and hooked up to an IV.

"He's stable now," the man said, who looked like the doctor in charge of things. "He lost a substantial amount of blood, but we managed to find an exit wound, so the bullet isn't lodged in his system. He also seems to have a broken wrist, ruptured in three places, to be exact. One of the disks in his spinal cord has a miniscule compression fracture, which can result in paralysis if he's not –"

"Excuse me," Tadase said loudly.

The doctor followed his gaze. One of the EMTs looked up from his phone, with a dumb expression on his face.

"Yes, you. Do you think you know who this man is?"

Tadase began walking toward him slowly. The man looked nervous for a moment; he looked to the side and muttered intelligibly,

"I-It looks like that musician. The violin – Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

"Well you're _very_ smart." Tadase's voice was sarcastic and blunt. He stood directly in front of him. "Do you want to know why he's here?"

The man was slightly taller than Tadase, with a long face and lanky, ape-like arms and legs. He nodded his head slowly, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"I'm sure you do. Just like you want to send that picture you just took with your phone to the local newspaper."

Tadase saw the man's bulky Adam's apple go up and down, his sinewy jaw beginning to quiver.

Without another word, Tadase took the phone in the nervous man's shaking hands. He held it in his hand – he didn't have to look at it to know that on the front screen there would be a picture of an unconscious Ikuto – and looked the man directly in the eyes. The idiotic EMT began to make unintelligible, dumbfounded noises, as if trying to piece together some sentence or another; Tadase just stared.

And then, with a loud _crack_, the phone in his fists was in pieces.

"Idiots like you make me _sick_." His voice was low and gravelly.

The head surgeon behind him tried to defend him. "S-sir, I'm terribly sorry about his actions, but you can understand his, err, curiosity."

Tadase turned around and looked at the doctor.

"Hm. Curiosity. Is that what you call it?"

The doctor took a fearful step back; he'd never be able to get those daunting eyes out of his head. Tadase stalked behind Ikuto's gurney and began unhooking the various cords and tubes connected to Ikuto's bruised and beaten body. The doctor began to speak,

"Now one moment, sir, this man needs –"

"He's been through worse."

"But sir, he's been shot more than once before!"

"Doesn't surprise me."

The doctor's voice rose heatedly. "You can't just take a body out of a hospital!"

Tadase looked up. His knuckles grew white from clenching his fists so tightly. His face seemed to transform, to contort into a stare that none of those doctors were prepared for – they took a step back.

His red eyes stared _bloodily_.

"You want the credit for finding this guy? Great. Go tell the papers. Shout it from the rooftops." His expression grew darker. "But they will _hunt you down_. The same thing they did to him – but they'll make you hurt worse. As of this moment, all of your lives are at stake. You've seen nothing – understand? So be good…"

He pushed the gurney out the double doors.

"…And shut up."

* * *

Tadase felt dead inside.

He'd let his inner anger and frustration build up to a point that he couldn't mask with a smile. And he cringed, remembering every moment of his loss of control.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. He couldn't control the shakiness in his voice. He looked up at Kuukai. "Kuukai, I…"

"Hey man, it's alright." Kuukai nodded in acceptance. "We're all upset. Everybody's gotta lose control once in a while."

The two friends smiled faintly at each other, coming to a forgiving understanding.

Nagihiko walked across the room to the couch, and looked down at Ikuto's sleeping face. His brow was furrowed and his face was creased in a worried, angst-ridden expression, but his breathing was steady.

"His face seems to have a bit more color," Nagihiko observed.

"Is he going to wake up soon?" Yaya asked quietly. Worry plagued her childlike face.

Nagihiko walked back to the dining room where Rima sat, shaking his head dismally. "I don't know."

"There's gotta be something we can do," Kuukai said, his face solemn and distant. "We can't possibly just sit and wait. Who knows what they could be doing to her right now…"

There was silence in the room again, as each and every one of them contemplated his words and the possibility that their friend Amu was going through pain or torment.

"Don't worry," Tadase said. His vacant eyes were returning to their soft, rosy color. "Easter wouldn't kidnap her just to hurt her. They'll keep her alive."

Those words did little to console the worrisome friends. Being "safe" and being "kept alive" were not related in the slightest, and each one of their minds were turning and picturing their friend Amu, wherever she was and however she was feeling.

Tadase looked at the floor, with defeat written in his eyes. The last words he'd heard from Amu's lips echoed in his mind - _"I love you." _The look in her eyes was more passionate and true than he'd ever seen written upon her face. He looked over at the couch at his cousin. As much adversity between them there was, that time had not healed, he surrendered his strong will to win Amu back.

_He is her only hope now. _

Nagihiko pulled up a chair beside Rima, and sat down beside her. She said nothing; she simply and wordlessly leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "We'll get her back."

"How do you know?" came a soft, hollow voice from beside him.

He looked down, slightly surprised that she'd spoken. He reached down and laid his hand on top of hers.

"Because." He nodded to the couch. "We've got him."

-0-0-0-0-

She felt her eyes open. She blinked, several times.

Nothing changed.

The darkness consumed her vision. She slowly raised her head, only to immediately regret it. It fell back against the ground and she felt the searing pain rip through her skull and reverberate inside her brain, shooting through her veins and all throughout her nervous system. Her body tingled. The cold air chilled her to the bone. She tried to move her legs, and failed; she moved her fingers, one by one, and made a fist. She knew she was alive, and that was all she knew.

When she finally started to breathe, the rotten, putrid stench wafted through her nose and she coughed violently. It was unlike anything she'd ever breathed. If she had never smelled a decaying corpse, she had now.

After what felt like hours just lying on her back, she forced her body to react and move. She rolled over on the side using her arms, and managed to lie flat on her stomach – she could feel her insides churning and aching at the repositioning. She could not see, but she could feel; all she felt was cold, hard, wet cement. She dragged herself as far as she could, feeling herself skid against the rough, coarse ground. The sound was amplified almost a thousand times in the pitch blackness, and filled her aching head with the sound of fingernails gritting against a chalkboard. She then dragged her hand across a cold wall. She pulled herself up against it, and leaned back, breathing heavily through her mouth.

The pressure and ache of her head weighed down on her body like a wretched, infinitely amplified hangover. She couldn't move her neck without feeling as if it would snap in two. She brought a hand to her forehead, and a painful sting raced through her nerves. On the side of her face, she could feel a cool, thick liquid dripping down, oozing onto her chest and shoulder.

She did not have to think twice what it was.

Suddenly, she heard a shuffling sound in the pure darkness. She remained perfectly still – she did not move. She swallowed, and her throat felt like a dry wilderness.

"Who's there?"

She didn't even recognize her own voice. It was hoarse and fading, and she felt that it was swallowed by the darkness. She heard the shifting again, and felt her heart pump faster, matching the rhythm of the throbbing in her head.

Then, she heard it.

"A… Amu?"

The voice was so strained and so feeble. She did not recognize it. She wracked her brain for familiar voices, slightly afraid of who this stranger would be, what he would do if she approached him, what his connection was to her. She was afraid of why he was here. She was scared of finding out, and being locked in darkness with him forever.

But then, she didn't really have anything to lose.

Did she.

"How do you… who…" she had trouble piecing together sentences. "…Who are you?"

Just then, she saw a light flicker and shine dimly out of the corner of her eye. Even the faintest pierce of the darkness with illumination made her squint her eyes. She looked over, and she saw the parallel metal bars enclosing her in – she didn't know if it brought her relief or angst.

She knew now that she was locked up, in a cell.

But she also knew that she wasn't in some torture basement, surrounded by dead bodies.

Her attention was drawn to a figure, hunched over, leaning against the wall opposite of her. His arm was elevated to the wall beside him, where he'd flicked on a crude light-switch, illuminating a dim, solitary light bulb in the cell. She could see the man's shoulders rising and falling drastically, and she could tell by the tense, yet lethargic structure of his body that he was in pain.

She squinted her eyes, trying to clear her blurry vision.

Her heart suddenly stopped.

Dark indigo hair. Pale, luminous skin.

_Ikuto…? _

She let out a sadistic grunt of cheerless laughter. The damage to her head was more severe than she thought. Her mind was playing tricks on her – on top of everything else, now, she was hallucinating.

But then, the figure lifted his head.

Vibrant, bronze-yellow eyes.

"…Yoru?"

She sat up too quickly. Her head throbbed, but she pushed her own pain aside.

"Oh god…"

Amu didn't know that there was any more shock left to feel – she didn't know she could feel the emotion of surprise ever again. Immediately, her concern and apprehension for herself disappeared, and she now cared nothing more than to see that Yoru was alright.

She tried to make her legs move, to stand, to crawl, _anything_ – but they refused to function. She pulled herself on the freezing solid ground with her arms, mustering up all of the strength she had left to reach him. It took everything she had, and it took a long time. She finally pulled herself up against the wall beside him, staring at him with wide, concerned eyes.

With one glance, she knew that he was much worse off than her.

"Oh god, Yoru…" she glanced down and grimaced. She felt bile rise up in her throat at the amount of blood surrounding his legs. "What have they done to you…?"

Without speaking, he reached down and grasped Amu's hand in his. He squeezed it tightly. In spite of it all, with pain in his eyes, he still held that roguish grin.

"Don't speak." Beads of sweat rolled down his sickly pale face. He breathed heavily. "Just… just hold my hand…"

And that's exactly what Amu did. For what felt like hours, she sat beside him, squeezing his hand as tightly as she could. Amu stared at the sickeningly distended, bloodied hole in his thigh. She knew it was infected.

She reached down and mustered up the strength, ripping off a long piece of cloth from her black, once-formal dress. She let go of his hand, and began gently and slowly lifting his leg, enveloping his wound in the cloth.

"This will hurt," she said softly.

Yoru grunted in pain.

"Nah… I've been through worse," he said tightly.

Moments of silence passed as Amu slowly bandaged the infected lesion. Yoru said quietly,

"So they got you, too."

His voice was dismal and low. Amu stopped her movement, and lowered her eyes. "Why me?" she felt her hoarse voice crack. "I don't get it."

"You're the bait." Yoru said, in a weak voice. His eyes were cast down. "You're all that it takes to make Ikuto stay. Kazuomi Hoshina needs an heir for the company – Ikuto's all he's got. Hoshina tried to dangle his father in front of him, but Ikuto turned his back on him, just like the old man had done to Ikuto when he was young. But now, as long as they have you… he'll do whatever Hoshina wants. He'd never turn his back on you."

Everything was pieced together. When they first met, those thugs were sent to kidnap her. She finally realized everything – exactly what he'd been running from. Slavery. Bondage.

For once, Ikuto had done something for himself. He tried to be completely and utterly free – what he'd always wanted, what he'd always craved. But it all turned on him. Everything came crashing down in one instance and now he was destined to be oppressed forever.

Amu stared at Yoru with a distant look in her eyes. Somehow, all of her emotion had run dry. She didn't know what to feel anymore.

"So then… I'm trapped here. Forever."

Yoru looked at her intently. His eyes were solemn. "Ikuto would do anything to keep you alive, Amu."

_Even if it meant leaving me alone._

_Even if it meant taking a shot for me._

_Even if it meant selling his soul. _

Amu clenched her fists. She felt tears begin to sting at her numb eyes. Emotion began to stir in her emotionless heart. Memories of her and Ikuto came rushing back to her at the speed of light – the new and the old.

_He'd never turn his back on you. _

"Idiot," she whispered.

A tear spilled down her cold, numb cheek.

-0-0-0-0-0-

"_Idiot_."

He stared at her with horror on his face. She dripped with blood. Her face was numb and expressionless.

"None of this would've happened if you'd never come back."

Her face twisted into some sort of monstrosity. He felt as if he was being wrenched into pieces.

"It's all your fault."

He saw her disappear, wither away like dust in the wind, before his eyes. He reached for her, but she didn't take his hand. She couldn't.

_It's all your fault. _

A gunshot rang out in his head.

_**It's all your fault.**_

* * *

Ikuto shot up too quickly.

His head spun.

"Ikuto!"

Nagihiko hurried over to the injured violinist, alerting the others in the small apartment living room. Everyone was on the edge of their seat, feeling the tension of seeing the wounded man awake. He breathed heavily, and they could see the beads of cold sweat on his chest and forehead. His midnight eyes went from wide to narrowed, darting around restlessly. Yaya shot up, and got a glass of water from the kitchen.

Ikuto studied his surroundings and felt panicked. He knew this place, but he didn't know where he was. People were speaking to him, studying him, but he couldn't see or hear them.

Images flooded his mind. He didn't know what was going on. His sanity was on the edge. All he knew was that she was gone, and that he had to get her back.

He stood up from the couch, without thinking.

Immediately, the regret shot through his body, painfully.

"You need to sit down, Tsukiyomi!" Yaya hurried and put a hand on his arm, gently urging him back onto the couch. "You need your rest."

He didn't have time to think. He didn't have time to feel. He didn't have time to remember what was wrong with him – all he could remember was what happened to her.

"Here, man." Kuukai placed a hand on his back, helping Yaya to gently press him back onto the couch – by the look of vacant shock on his face, he could not move on his own. "Sit down. Tell us everything you know."

Suddenly, Ikuto thrashed violently from their grasp and a shot a vicious, frenzied glare in their direction. He said nothing. He simply walked away, limping noticeably, toward the door of the apartment.

"Tsukiyomi, wait! Where are you going?" Yaya cried.

"You're severely injured, Tsukiyomi." Nagihiko stepped forward, speaking sternly. "You can't go searching for her now, not until you've had time to recover."

The words did not deter him in the slightest. It was as if he couldn't hear them at all. He walked toward the dresser, opening Tadase's drawer and grabbing a white t-shirt.

"Tsukiyomi, I know you wanna save Amu, but you can't go in there like that! They'll eat you alive, man!" Kuukai shouted edgily. "You're in no shape to fight for her!"

"I'm not fighting." Were the words that emerged from his mouth, emotionlessly.

He slipped the shirt onto his bare, tainted chest, and walked toward the door, hardly paying attention to the evident cripple in his leg.

"You don't know what you're doing!"

He didn't have time to feel pain. He had to get her back.

"Tsukiyomi, wait!"

He had to see her safe.

"**Ikuto**."

He stopped when he felt a firm hand grasp onto his shoulder. He didn't bother to turn his head. He'd know his cousin's frail grip anywhere – but he never knew it could be so tense.

"Stop acting recklessly. You've got to think this through." Tadase's voice was low and harsh once again. "By attempting to free her, you'll only hurt her more. Don't forget – you know _exactly_ why they took Amu and not you."

Ikuto was silent. His fists were clenched tightly, sending shots of vigorous, adrenal pain through his system. The only thing that made him angrier than his kid cousin holding him back was the fact that he was right.

The Guardians watched on in stunned silence, and stepped back as it became evident that this was a moment for the two cousins, and them alone. Tadase's hard eyes began to soften, and his voice reached a low, placid timber – but the determination in his eyes was clear enough.

"He's trying to lure you in," Tadase said slowly. "You can't take the bait, Ikuto. There has to be another way."

"When has there ever been another way?" Ikuto's voice was low and brutal.

"You can't just give him what he wants! You'll sell your soul, you'll become like the rest of them!" Tadase grew heated and angry. His voice rose to a hoarse, passioned shout. "You are not one of them, Ikuto! And you sure as hell can't become their leader!"

Ikuto broke away from his grasp the instant the words came out of Tadase's mouth. He turned his head and snarled,

"I've got to go. I don't have a choice."

"You've always had a choice!"

"I will not risk anything with Amu."

"There's got to be another way!"

"There has _**never**_ been another way!" Ikuto screamed suddenly.

The Guardians jumped back. The look in Ikuto's eyes was filled with fire and rage, enough to start a fire. No one was expecting his temper to fly off the handle. Tadase stared at him - he could see the true agony and pain inside Ikuto's eyes. He could see the horror he felt in being caged once again. His freedom was slipping away. For Amu's sake.

_It's all my fault. _

Ikuto opened the door and turned his head, spitting his final words –

"Wake up."

And he walked out the door.

-0-0-0-0-0-

(_A/N_) - _ohboyohboyohboy. _

_here's where it gets good._

_this chapter was fairly difficult to write... sorry if seems rather fluid and rushed, i've been dwelling on a different writing style - one less detailed. my last chapter was entirely too long. _

_i tried incorporating a bit more of the supernatural aspect of the anime into this fanfic - since i didn't use the charas or powers or anything, why not chara-changes? hmm? notice anybody behaving... differently?_

_Ikuto's last words have several meanings. dwell upon them in any fashion you choose. next chapter comin' 'round the mountain!_


	26. Faceless

Never Be the Same

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 25

* * *

They pulled the cloth sack off of her head, and the light flooded her vision.

She closed her eyes immediately. The ache surged through her head. She knew that she was sitting in a chair, because she felt the support against her back. Her legs were still paralyzed from shock – the consistency of noodles – and the burly Easter bodyguards had to drag her by the arms down the halls of the dark company basement.

When her eyes adjusted to the blinding white light, she squinted and found herself sitting in front of a long, rectangular table. There was a chair on the other side of the table, unoccupied. On the table was a tray of food; some sort of chicken body part, and on the side was a carelessly slopped pile of greens. The room around her was lit up intensely, with eerily luminescent walls and floors. She knew that they were trying their hardest to make her eyes burn as much as possible. The room was empty besides the table and chairs – like an interrogation room.

Amu was not surprised.

She stared at the plate of food acrimoniously. She felt her stomach growl, but she would rather starve then eat food prepared by monsters.

She sat still and silent for a long time. She looked up and stared directly into the lens of the video camera in the corner of the ceiling. She knew that there were people staring directly back at her. She knew that they were waiting for her to break down – cry, scream, convulse in terror – but there wasn't a chance in the world that she would let them see it.

Finally, the moment she had been waiting for arrived. The heavy door opened slowly, and in walked three body guards. One of them was Seiichiro.

His face was swollen and colored in red, black, and blue. His generally tall shoulders were slumped. He walked with a limp. His glasses lenses were cracked. Still dressed to the nines, in the blackest suit jacket and pants any man had ever owned, to match his black, black soul.

But when his narrowed eyes met Amu's, his body turned to stone.

His eyes were stained with horror and despair – the circles beneath them made his countenance look deathly ill. She could see the thin string above his heart that his life was hanging by. He looked suicidal. Possessed and used. Nothing left to live for.

Amu could see it all. And Seiichiro knew that she could.

The three men stepped aside, and behind them, Amu heard soft, clip-clopping footsteps against the cold tile. A blonde-haired woman walked through the door, with a stride as lithe and smooth as liquid. She commanded in a low voice for one of the men to shut the door, and they complied immediately – programmed to her every whim.

Amu felt a surge of rage lift inside her stomach.

"So," the blonde woman began. "You're Hinamori Amu."

"You're the one that shot Ikuto." Her voice was dark and gravelly.

Dia let a wicked smirk slide across her face. "Well, aren't you observant. I'm surprised you can even remember his name."

"You shot him." Amu couldn't find other words to say. Her mind was going too fast – rage was quickly and dangerously taking over. "You shot him down."

Dia let out a grunt of sadistic laughter. "Would've killed him if I could."

"What stopped you?"

"You ask too many questions, bitch."

"That's because I want answers." Amu glared numbly. "Wouldn't you?"

Amu managed to capture a glimpse of Seiichiro – she could see his body shaking. His eyes twitched and trembled behind the thin glass lenses. Dia remained silent for a moment, grinning maliciously. With a snap of her fingers and a flip of her hand, the bodyguards behind her were at attention.

"Leave us."

The three men showed the slightest tell of hesitation. Seiichiro's dead eyes came alive. When her command had not been responded to in the second, Dia raised her voice to a vicious shout.

"Get out!"

And then, like dogs to their master, the three men walked out of the room. Just before his body exited the threshold of the metallic door, Seiichiro turned his head and removed his broken glasses. Right when Amu looked up, his dead eyes met hers. The only thing she could see written across his face was apology.

Immediately, Amu knew that she would never see him again.

No one would.

The door slammed shut with a loud _clang_, and the room fell deathly silent. Amu was left to stare at the woman who put a bullet in the man she loved. The woman who taunted her with a sadistic grin spread across her crimson red lips. The woman with no soul.

The silence was broken by the loud _screech_ that echoed across the thick walls of the small room when Dia pulled out the other chair and sat down. She crossed her slender legs, and tapped her high-heeled shoe against the table.

"You're scared out of your mind right now, aren't you, bitch?" Was the opening sentence, spoken in a low, mocking tone. "You're missing your precious little life, with your precious friends and precious family. You don't have a clue what's going on."

Amu remained silent. Dia leaned forward, pressing her elbows on the table.

"Let me break it down for you, pink. You made a stupid decision when you decided to get involved with this company. Now, it's time to pay the price."

"My decision involving this company was not nearly as stupid as yours."

The words were sharp, cutting and quick. Amu's eyes grew dark and empty. After moments of pensive silence, Dia just threw her head back and laughed – a bone-chilling, venomous laugh. Her laughter died down and she glared cynically.

"It pains me to see little girls as naïve as you." She abruptly leaned forward, snarling, yellow eyes flashing with spite. "I'm going to have so much fun yanking you out of your perfect little world."

Amu stared at the vicious, barracuda-like woman, and felt her rage and anger rising and falling at the same time. It rose when she thought of the cruelty of this company and what they'd done to the love of her life – and it fell when she realized that the evil woman sitting before her was nothing more than a puppet, controlled by the puppeteer who headed it all. They all were. Being tied to the Hoshina family was a curse that no one could overcome. Yoru couldn't, Ikuto couldn't.

And from that moment on, all that Amu saw in Dia's venomous yellow eyes was dead, puppet-like dependence.

"You should be grateful for that slop on your plate." Dia examined her sharp manicured nails. "It'll be the only thing to fill your tiny gut for a long time."

Amu's eyes became vacant. Her mind hid in another place when she began to think with her heart. Feelings of pain, of loneliness, of doubt, of fear, of lifelessness plagued and thundered in her body and she felt her chest twisting and stinging in anguish.

She thought of her friends. She thought of the glow in Rima's eyes when she took Nagihiko's hand to walk up the stairs. She thought of the confusion on Yaya's innocent face when she spoke of her inevitable feelings for Kuukai. She thought of the emotion in Kuukai's trembling voice when she'd said goodbye to the home she knew. She thought of the protective anger in Nagihiko's eyes that she'd never seen before when he fought for her safety.

And then, it was inevitable. She could not push it out.

She thought of the first time in five years she saw his beautiful face under the dim street light. She thought of the way his solemn face held innocence when he slept. She thought of the exhilaration she felt each time that he held her in his arms; each time he'd catch her when she fell. She thought of the selfish anger she'd been plagued with when he left her alone for years. She thought of the guilt they both felt when they'd caved into their first kiss in five years – and the joy they'd felt in the willing, beautiful second. She thought of the young memories painted in her mind that she'd never let go of, that came rushing back to her when the flame of their love rejuvenated and burned brighter than any star in the sky.

She thought of the look in his eyes when they took her away.

"I can't even understand what all the fuss was about – _you_ are who he's been resisting the money for? What an idiot."

She thought of the last words she'd spoken to him:_ I love you._

"It's a shame he's so damn resilient – that shot would've killed him."

She thought of the beautiful future that they would never share together.

Amu watched Dia's glossy red lips move, but couldn't hear the words coming out. The memories passing through her mind at the speed of sound were fighting against her common sense; against her will. And of all of the emotions she felt at that moment in time…

Regret was not one of them.

"…Why?" she whispered.

She abandoned the fear. She abandoned the apprehension. She abandoned all feeling. She had to do _something_.

Something for _him_.

"Why do you do this?"

Dia's taunting glare morphed into one of anger. "I'll be asking the questions, bitch."

"Why would you choose to work with these coldblooded people?" Amu's voice grew louder. "What does this lifestyle have to offer?"

"Shut up."

"Answer me!"

"I said shut up, bi –"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't have a choice," Dia seethed.

"Don't give me that," Amu spat right back, meeting her rage head-on. "Everyone else had a choice. Ikuto Tsukiyomi had a choice. Yoru Nakamura had a choice. Utau Hoshina had a choice. They all made the choice to go against the selfish, heartless orders that your merciless leader forced them to carry out! What kind of sick devotion do you feel to that monster?"

_Slap_.

Dia leaned over the table, hand outstretched and claws extended; she was incensed. Particles of skin were dug beneath her nails. Amu stared at the ground, wide-eyed and numb, feeling the sting across the left side of her face. She lifted a hand to her face and felt liquid dripping from the sharp cuts along the skin of her eye.

"They're all idiots," Dia spat furiously. Her demure smirk was long gone, twisted into demented hate. "And you're one of them. In this world, the highest ranked are the ones that survive. Don't think for a second that you're going to be saved – that bastard you call your boyfriend is probably high-tailing it out of Japan as we speak, because he didn't have the guts to face his ugly past. He turned down the opportunity of a lifetime to go his own stupid way – to be 'free'."

Amu snapped her gaze back to Dia. Her whole and complete indignation was uncontrolled and evident in her fiery sun eyes, stained with fresh blood trickling down her eyelids.

"Freedom is what he's always had – and you can never take that away from him, no matter how hard you try!"

Dia strode around the table, and slammed her hand on the hard, cold linoleum. She glared bloodily into Amu's angered golden eyes, and extended her hand to snatch the front of her dress and pull her face inches from her own.

"Freedom is overrated. No matter what you do, where you go, chains and bonds stalk you – they haunt you. Freedom isn't achieved until you reach hell. Then, you're free to rot for an eternity, haunted by endless regrets of your jacked-up life on earth."

She snarled in her face, and threw Amu back into her chair. Amu fell back and steadied herself from falling over, her face stinging with pain. Dia stood up straight and slowly stalked back to her chair, glaring maliciously, almost mocking her. She regained her composure and said lowly,

"Don't pretend that your little naïve mind is too innocent to comprehend that much."

There was silence again as Dia began to think that she had won. Then, Amu spoke up once more. Her bruised and weak eyes became filled with something that the wretched blonde woman hated more than anything in this world – sympathy.

"Does that make you wiser?" Amu's voice was low and trembling, but firm. "Because you sold yourself to slavery?"

At that, Dia fell silent. She whirled around slowly, glaring with a vivid hatred in her narrow yellow eyes at the woman with disheveled pink hair, with a dirty and ripped dress; bruises on her fair skin, and a stream of dried, maroon blood running down the side of her face, staining her hair. Fresh cuts tainted her face and eyelids, crimson blood streaming into her eyes. She was weak and bruised – she was frail and heartbroken. Dia knew that she need only squeeze her own fist to kill her in an instant.

She had no future; only life in a rotting cell, imprisoned for someone else's wrongs. She had nothing left to live for; her only served purpose would be to keep the company's heir from wandering ever again. Her only purpose was bait.

That's all she was.

But in spite of that…

"God, you are such a _little_ **bitch**!"

Before Amu could react, Dia lost control and angrily grabbed the chair that Amu sat in. She let out a scream of rage and with the strength and quickness of a jaguar, she threw the chair to the ground. Amu tumbled out of it and skidded across the cold cement floor, resisting the need to cry out in agonizing pain. Dia lifted the chair over her head and with a harsh, angered cry, she brought the chair down _hard_. The pieces flew every which way. Amu brought her knees to her chest and closed her eyes tightly – it did not soften the impact. The chair's parts flew across the room and came straight down on Amu's chest, and she felt the breath leave her lungs in an instant.

The pain became so great that every bone in her body was screaming. But she did not break.

She _would_ _not_ break.

"What the hell makes you so damn special, huh? You think you can do whatever you want in life and get by?" Dia's eyes became frenzied and nearly demonic. Her voice was hoarse and shrill, grating against the silence of the room like nails on a chalkboard. "Bitches like you make me want to _vomit_. God, you're so naïve! He never even loved you! He broke every damn promise that he made to you – he was just using you as a ticket to get out of this hellhole! Do you really think he'd be stupid enough to waste his life just to save yours?"

The words hit Amu's ears and she felt them sinking into her skin. The pain would not stop thundering. Her heart would not slow down. And that was when the misery of it all struck her full-force.

All these years…

That's _exactly_ what he'd been doing.

"I don't care…"

Dia glared defiantly at the small, bruised body, curled up on the floor in writhing pain. Her voice was pathetically weak and her mentality was the same. Dia didn't know why she was wasting her time.

"You don't know when to shut up, do you?" she roared, furious.

And yet…

Amu slowly and steadily elevated her upper body with her hands. She brought herself up, feeling the horrific agony of the most pain that she'd ever experienced in her sorry life. Her chest hammered with soreness and her head throbbed and ached. Her hair covered her face. Her voice became strong and sure.

"I don't care… if I live or if I die. If he will lose his freedom to be in slavery here just to save my life, then please." Amu looked up from behind her hair, her eyes filled with tears. "Kill me."

Dia froze.

"All I know…" Amu lifted her gaze. She couldn't feel the tears that fell down her cheeks. "All I know is that I love him. All I know is that I would give up my life for his freedom."

_Just as he'd do__ne for me._

Dia said nothing. She did nothing. Her face was blank and emotionless. She stared directly into the wide, innocent, passionate honey-golden eyes that stared up at her with such emotion that Dia could not match it to anything she'd ever seen. Tears streamed down her dirtied, bloodied face. And yet, among all the emotions that stained her innocent eyes…

Dia could not see any regret.

_Damn it_.

She clenched her fists. Without speaking, she turned and punched in the code for the black metal door. She turned her head slowly, gazing darkly with gravel in her voice.

"You're an idiot. A young, naïve, love-struck idiot. Love conquers nothing, bitch – the sooner you learn that, the better. That 'free' bastard's getting exactly what he deserves."

Amu was silent for a moment, fear gripping her once strong spirit.

"And what is that?" Her voice was low and hard, trying to keep control.

She did not dare let Dia see the fear that she felt for Ikuto. Dia opened the door and vanished from the room with words that made Amu's soul numb.

"Watching you die."

-0-0-0-0-0-

The tension was thick in the air. The room was swallowed in darkness.

No one dared to breathe.

Hoshina sat with his legs crossed, silent, fingertips folded together in a tight grasp. He did nothing but smile cruelly at his wayward stepson.

"Well, isn't this a surprise. Only days ago, you steadfastly refused working for me." He paused, and his glare darkened. "I wonder what made you change your mind?"

Ikuto remained silent. He could not bear it. He could not bear to stand there. Not in the presence of that man, not in that office, not in this building. He could not bear to stand at all.

But he had to.

Hoshina slowly stood from his chair, taking slow, painfully deliberate steps toward his tensed, irate stepson. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly how to make the boy tick. He knew exactly why he had him in the palm of his hand. He could not contain his malevolent smile.

"I'm going to enjoy every moment of this."

Hoshina walked toward the violinist, encircling his stiff frame. Ikuto refused to look at him – he stared straight ahead, blankly. His facial structure was tense, and his fists were tightened hard. There was no mercy, no compassion in any bone of his body. There was no telling when he would lose control and violently lash out at everyone around him – there was no telling when the ticking time bomb would explode. There was a certain angry darkness in the way that he breathed.

If Amu had seen him like this, she wouldn't recognize him.

But this was the only Ikuto that Hoshina ever knew.

"It astonishes me how cruel you can be, Ikuto. You throw away the life of your father to leave this company, only to run back at the kidnapping of a girl? How stupid."

Ikuto could not stand and listen to the words that the old bastard was spitting at him – he could not listen as horrifying images passed through his mind of his love; trapped, scared, or hurt. Every bit of apathy that he spent his whole life feeling had disappeared. He could not stand the overwhelming darkness. He couldn't take it anymore.

But he took it.

"Where is she?" Ikuto spoke.

His voice was unrecognizable. Low, hoarse, and unmistakably trembling. Hoshina delighted at the pathetic sound.

"You expect me to care? Misaki has been charged with the girl's well-being… I can't control what that woman does. Probably took her on a nice, long tour of the building… ending with the basement."

That was when something inside Ikuto snapped.

His circulatory system awakened, and the frozen blood began coursing through his veins again. His heartbeat quickened to a dangerously fast pace. He lifted his head, slowly. His eyes became narrowed and cold – darker than black – engulfed in pure, unstained hatred.

Hoshina moved behind his stepson, feeling the aura of his rage. The heartless head of the company was nothing but elated.

"You have nothing to worry about – her screams were not entirely too loud. Altogether, she'll make a very welcoming houseguest in the future. And in return, we'll do all we can to keep her nice and _alive_."

Hoshina moved close to Ikuto's ear, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"And to think, Ikuto. All of this could have been prevented if you'd stayed."

He could see the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"It's all… your fault."

In the blink of an eye, Ikuto let out a furious cry of rage, and whirled around with a flying fist. As if he could predict every movement his stepson made, Hoshina just smirked and simultaneously brought his fist around the side.

It happened too fast for anyone to comprehend, but everyone knew that the head of the company had foretold the company heir's violent outbreak.

Hoshina's fist connected directly with Ikuto's chest – his left pectoral. Instantaneously, Ikuto's body slumped forward, no longer upholding the tense, rigid structure he once had. He could not hold back from wincing in pain. His chest wound steadily began to bleed through the bandage.

Hoshina just stared coldly at his weak stepson.

"Did you really think you'd be able to stay away?" His voice was brutally deep and threatening. "Surely you must realize by now that you belong here. You were born to do this. This is your life now."

Hoshina faced him directly, meeting his eyes head-on. The sheer rage between stepfather and stepson was almost too overwhelming for a single room to contain – the pressure could've caused a crack in the windows. Identical hatred darkened the shadowed room.

"Stop fighting me." Hoshina growled.

The rest was all a blur. No more words were said. Ikuto signed a paper – he signed his life away. There was no hesitation, no deliberation. He knew that he had to do it. No longer could he run away. No longer could he dream about the freedom that he longed so desperately for – it was out of his grasp.

He became dead inside. Dead to himself, dead to the world. He no longer had a life.

But because of that, she would always have hers.

And that was all he cared about.

"Ikuto."

He stopped, with his hand on the door handle. Hoshina glared callously from the shadows behind the desk.

"Make no mistake. Defy me once, and she _will_ die."

He closed his eyes, and threw open the door. He walked through the halls, swallowed in darkness, feeling trapped; chained. Every single broken promise that he'd ever made came crashing down at him all at once and he could not breathe. His chest sweltered and thundered in pain. He could not stop moving. His hands fell limp by his sides and for once in his life he felt completely and utterly helpless. His eyes became vacant and numb – and that way they would stay for as long as he lived.

He'd sold his soul, and he'd do it again. For her.

Ikuto Tsukiyomi was gone, long gone.

_Amu…_

_Please forgive me._

-0-0-0-0-0-

"**Breaking news**…"

They walked down the sidewalks, without a care in the world.

They drove down the streets, taking for granted the carefree and blithe existences they'd been born with.

They passed the marvelous black building, with dark tinted windows and body guards standing outside, never knowing what went on behind closed doors.

"Famous violinist Ikuto Tsukiyomi has reappeared suddenly, after a long and unexpected disappearance. Tsukiyomi's stepfather, Kazuomi Hoshina, is very pleased at his stepson's return. A press conference with the infamous father and son will be held this evening."

They trained their glazed eyes to their TV screens and locked their gazes upon the face that they idolized. The face that they knew nothing about. The face with no emotion.

"It has been rumored that the star-studded musician is making a sudden career change. According to valued sources, Tsukiyomi is finally going to succeed his position as the heir to Hoshina's prestigious corporation, Easter."

His perfectly structured handsome face appeared on the television screen and everyone felt relieved again. No one noticed the empty, soulless glaze over his deep midnight eyes – no one could see the complete and utter failure that he felt. No one knew that he was a slave.

"After being away on what has been disclosed to the press as a 'long vacation' for almost two weeks, Tsukiyomi is back on the scene with all the poise and finesse of a true businessman. More details to come after a short break."

And their attention was lost.

They were all blind. Their lives were filled with happy relationships and without any fear of consequences. They kept their eyes below the level of the struggles, aches and pains that others faced – they blocked it out. In that city were a million small, lonely worlds.

They knew no consequences for falling in love.

Nagihiko pointed the remote at the screen and it went black. Silence sunk deep into the tense, heavy air. Rima looked down at her hands and felt the tears fall from her eyes. Kuukai slammed his head against the wall, clenching his fists angrily. Yaya stared at the blank screen, hopelessness and fear written across her innocent eyes. Tadase was numb and silent; he didn't move.

Their hero had given in.

They didn't know what to feel. Anger, sadness, relief, brokenness – it had become all the same.

She was alive. He was alive.

But the Guardians would never see them again.

-0-0-0-0-0-

_(A/N) - depressing..._

_yeah, this chapter is pretty much straightforward and short and depressing. i'm in a bit of a funk right now... thing's aren't going too well in life. __negative words and feelings were pretty much all i felt like writing :P_

_things will look up! but right now is the low, painful calm before the storm. don't worry. it's not over yet. _

_it's not. over. yet. :D_


End file.
